Pre-ReWrite- LightShinesBrightestInTheDarkness
by DaughterofHadesandNyx
Summary: Pre-ReWrite- FemHarry. AU "The world is split into thirds. Those who love her. Those who hate her. And those who've never heard of her. And face it. A life without her would be a life less lived."
1. Chapter 1

**_Author'sNote: This is the UnEdited, Pre-Rewriten version of my fanfic, Light Shines Brightest in Darkness, and having read over it in recent weeks, I sort-of cringed at my fourteen year old writing skills (actually right now I'm not much better, sitting at fifteen,) but I was going to replace my old story (this one) with the new version and spare myself the shame, and the world the horror of having to read the ramblings of my fourteen-year-old mind... however there were requests to leave this story available for those who still (for some reason) love it and so it has been re-posted here. _**

**_The new Light Shines Brightest In Darkness has replaced this one at it's old URL. So NEW readers PLEASE read my story at the other link, s/9149741/1/Light-Shines-Brightest-in-the-Darkness_**

**_Old readers- if you're here for this version, then I saved it for you! Enjoy! (But do check out the re-written one if you have time)_**

* * *

**_June 10_****_th_****_ 199, Minerva McGonagall arrived on the doorstep of 4 Privet Drive to retrieve one Tempestas (Tempest) Lily Potter from both neglect and abuse at the hands of her relatives. The Marauders heir- the Girl-Who-Lived- The Chosen One… and a fourteen year old who was still asleep at 10:45am on the first day of term._**

C1: The Beginning.

Minerva rapped sharply on the door bearing the sign 'Either busy eating or sleeping. Go Away'. "Tempest! The train leaves in _fifteen minutes_, and I must leave for Hogwarts before you… Tempest!"

There was a muffled and annoyed groan, a thud, then pattering footsteps towards the door, which swung open. Tempest blinked at Minerva, her hair flattened against her skull and sticking up in the oddest of ways. "Whazzup Minnie?" she mumbled, her eyes still half closed, and her body leaning against the door for support.

"Hogwarts Tempest! The train?" continued Minerva, although her lips twitched at the nickname. Tempest had adopted it when she had first arrived, saying 'Professor' and 'Minerva' were much too formal to be used all the time. Hence- 'Minnie.'

Tempest seemed to make a forced effort to keep her eyes open, and mumbled out an incoherent reply, before the door slammed, and Minerva, shaking her head, went downstairs. Had she slept this much when she was fourteen?

Heidy, her house-elf was setting the table, humming as she did so, her blindingly bright towel pinned neatly around her. "Good morning Minerva, is there anything else you need?" squeaked the elf, her huge eyes blinking up at the woman.

"No thank you Heidy. But if Tempest isn't up in two minutes, please use whatever means necessary to make her ready for the train to Hogwarts. I need to leave."

Heidy grinned mischievously. "Of course Minerva, I will see to it."

After Heidy left, Minerva glanced upwards slightly as there was a succession or several more thuds in the general direction of where Tempest was. Her eyes twinkled as she imagined Tempest Potter, so different now from the small girl who had stepped through the door of 4 Privet Drive, eying her with confused hope.

Now at fourteen and a teenager, Tempest had just hit her growth spurt, and while it was not as extreme as it was with her father, she had grown several inches and was almost as tall and lanky as her father had been at that age. She had the general build of a seeker, and thin and wiry, an odd combination for a girl, but Tempest had never been normal.

Minerva gave a quick smile as she remembered how exhausted Tempest had been when she arrived back home after the Quidditch World Cup, beaming and spouting tales of the players- Ireland and Bulgaria, although not a single word about the events _after_ the Cup had escaped her lips…. Death eaters and the like.

Speaking of that…. It would be several hours before the Hogwarts Express would reach Hogwarts, and she needed to talk to Albus.

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest cracked one eye open, then the other, and came face to face with a huge pair of luminous eyes. "Heidy!" she exclaimed, jumping up, and struggling to comb down her messy hair.

"Mistress needs to go get ready for Hogwarts miss, Miss Minerva said so! You will be late if you wait any longer!" said Heidy seriously, her bat-like ears flapping.

Groaning, Tempest sat up from where she was sprawled sideways across her bed, and struggled to find her day clothes. "Thanks Heidy… I'll be down in a sec… Have you got my Firebolt?"

Heidy nodded, "Yes mistress, Heidy has packed your trunk for you, Heidy knows how you is always forgetting… Please hurry miss Tempest." The elf's eyes were twinkling though, as she exited the room.

Still blinking like an owl, Tempest flung her legs over the edge of her bed, grinning at Nyx- her black tabby cat who wound her way around Tempest's legs, as she tried to find her shoes and socks.

Tempest made her way downstairs, desperately combing back her shaggy hair into a ponytail while shrugging on her clothes.

She quickly scoffed down her breakfast, burning her mouth and throat in the process, then grabbed her trunk, and scooped up Nyx, who didn't seem to take it well, and took Heidy's hand to apparate to Platform 9 and ¾.

Tempest grinned as she waved to Hermione, spotting Ron standing next to Ginny as they appeared through the Barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

Tempest could still remember the exact same day four years ago when she had arrived at the train station straight after leaving Diagon Alley.

Professor McGonagall, or Minnie as Tempest called her at home, had wisely said that it would be better if everyone assumed that Tempest was still living with her aunt and uncle, as it would be classed as favouritism if Tempest was put in Gryffindor (which she was). Only a select few knew where Tempest really lived.

The twins were the first to reach Tempest, Fred twirling spinning her around in a circle before George crushed the air out of her lungs with a bear hug.

"Hey!" Hermione's voice interrupted, "I want to hug her too!"

George was elbowed out of the way and gave Tempest a fierce hug.

"I really don't see what all the fuss is about," Tempest choked, trying to breathe, "I saw all of you less than three days ago!"

George merely shrugged and gave a sheepish grin, gesturing at Hermione. "I suspect it's the hormones."

Tempest laughed outright at that, thanking the stars Hermione hadn't heard.

Something warm and furry wound itself around Tempest's ankles, and she looked down to see Crookshanks- Hermione's cat, greeting Nyx.

"Want to go find a compartment?"

Tempest grinned, hauling her trunk over to the train.

Hermione's voice broke above the loud chatter of the people crowded on the platform. "Well, I hope for once, this term will be quiet!"

Tempest just shook her head, and exchanged a meaningful glance with Ginny. "Not with me around Hermione!"


	2. Chapter 2

C2- Oops.

"Tempestas Potter!"

The words echoed around the cavernous hall, and Tempest blinked twice

Tempest laughed. It wasn't exactly like Dumbledore to pull something like that at an occasion as serious as this, but then again, the man was rather eccentric and odd…

It wasn't until her laughter had faded out, that Tempest realized it was dead silent and everyone was staring straight at her. Even Ron and Hermione's eyes were on her, Ron's expression blank. Neither of them were smiling either.

If this was a joke…

Up at the staff table, Minnie got up and whispered something in Dumbledore's ear. Her expression wasn't pleased.

Beside her, all of Gryffindor table was staring at her, open mouthed. She couldn't read their expressions, there was only shock.

"What exactly just happened?" Tempest asked, staring around, trying to catch someone's eye.

All of them avoided her gaze, and none of them replied.

At the staff table, Dumbledore was shaking his head as Minnie straightened up. "Tempest Potter. Tempest! Up here if you please!"

"You can't be serious," Tempest said, "I don't-"

"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving Tempest a shove. "You've got to go up there."

Tempest wanted to turn around and yell: _The hell I do!_ But she was still in a sort of state of shock, and she stood up, tripped slightly on the bench, and began to walk up to the front between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables.

Tempest didn't mind stares, she didn't really care what others thought of her… she was more than used to random people staring at her as she walked by- but these people were different. Some of them were her friends, some of them were people who Tempest _did_ value the opinions of… and some of those people weren't even looking at her, facing away in disgust.

For the first time, Tempest cursed her height. She was taller than all the girls in Fourth year, and most in Fifth, and also stood a bit higher than the boys too. She'd always found it useful, not having to peer over other's heads in class, and as a seeker, height was useful, but now, it meant everyone in the Great Hall could see her.

The distance between the back of the hall and the front had never seemed so great. The whispers weren't stopping, and Dumbledore didn't seem any closer.

"If you're going to tell me what's going on, now would be a good time," Tempest said, trying to force a smile on her face as she finally reached Dumbledore.

Dumbledore didn't react at all, his expression stoic, and his usually twinkling blue eyes seemed to have gone out. "Through the door Tempest." Dumbledore said stoically.

Tempest wanted to protest, stand up before the whole hall and declare that it was a mistake- it was a joke, probably Fred and George- only they looked just as shocked as everyone else…

With nothing else to do, Tempest skirted around Minnie, trying to catch her attention, but Minnie wasn't looking at her, staring at the ground as though it was the most fascinating thing since Puffskeins. Tempest walked out of the Great Hall and found herself in a smaller room, lined with pictures of witches and wizards, all of whom were gazing pointedly at her.

There was a huge fireplace in the corner, with Viktor Krum, Fleur Delacour and Cedric Diggory standing around it.

"What is it? Do zey want us back in ze hall?" Fleur was the first to turn around, addressing Tempest.

_She thought she had come to deliver a message. _ Tempest thought, feeling oddly amused at that trivial fact.

"Uh, no," Tempest said, "I think someone played a joke, or something… uh, I'm sure Dumbledore will get in here and explain…"

The three champions stared blankly at her.

"Uh, why don't we just wait?" Tempest said awkwardly, shuffling on the spot. After all, what else could it be but a joke? There was no possible way that Tempest's name coming out of the Goblet _meant_ that she would compete in the tournament…. That would just be insane…

…and say the implausible happened and she _was_ a fourth champion… how would the others take the news?

Diggory wouldn't be pleased- for the first time Hufflepuff would have the chance to shine, and here she was- Tempest- the great Golden Gryffindor stealing the limelight again… she didn't know much about Delacour or Krum, but neither of them seemed the type to like competition from a fourteen year old.

There was the sound of hurried feet, and then suddenly Ludo Bagman entered the room, slinging an arm around Tempest's shoulders (making her flinch away slightly) and leading her forward.

"Amazing! Now, Gentlemen and… Lady, may I introduce- I am sure you must all be shocked- the fourth Triwizard Champion?"

Cedric was frowning, looking from Tempest to Bagman as if he had misheard, while Krum had straightened up and was staring at Tempest darkly.

"Okay, now you _have_ to be kidding," Tempest said, shrugging off Bagman's arm. "You can't be serious- out there, that was-"

"Kidding?" Bagman said, for a second looking just as confused as Cedric. "Why on earth would I be kidding? Your name came out of the Goblet of Fire- you're the fourth champion."

Cedric now looked politely bewildered, while Krum was still glaring at Tempest, and Fleur looked like someone had dunked a bucket of ice cold water over her head.

Tempest blinked for a moment, trying to comprehend what Bagman was saying. "Okay, hold up, you're making no sense whatsoever. I'm the _what now_? It's called _Tri_wizard tournament for a reason. Tri means _three_, not four!"

Bagman shrugged, his boyish face contorting into what Tempest assumed he thought was a deep-in-thought expression.

It didn't work.

"Well, I don't know, it's extraordinary, it's never happened before- I assure you, but it's in the rules, you can't back out- your name goes in… Well you're just going to have to do the best that you can…"

Tempest was shaking her head. "I am about _this _close to threatening someone as to tell me what the _hell _is going on! Why was my name in that Goblet?"

The door slammed open behind them, and Professor Dumbledore, Mr Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Minnie and –to Tempest's horror- Professor Snape, entered. For a second, Tempest could hear the voices of the people still in the Great hall, louder than ever, until Snape shut the door.

Fleur walked over to where her headmistress stood immediately. "Madame Maxime, Zey are saying zat zis little girl is to compete also!"

Tempest was yanked quite rudely from her disbelief into irritation. Little girl? She was the same height as Fleur, and Fleur was three years older than her.

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and very impressive, height. The top of her head brushed the chandelier, and her chest swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she demanded, glaring at Tempest, like it was _her _fault.

"I would rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," Professor Karkaroff stepped forward, wearing a steely smile which was only defeated by the cold light in his blue eyes. "Two Hogwarts champions? I do not remember receiving knowledge that the host school is allowed two champions." He gave a short, ugly laugh.

"C'est impossible!" Madame Maxime rested her large hand on Fleur's shoulder. "Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most unjust!"

"Yeah it's unjust!" Tempest jumped in, ignoring the look Maxime gave her. "I want to know why my name was put in that cup- because I sure as frog balls didn't do it… I was looking forwards to watching other people almost get killed, not being part of it myself!"

"A truly moral statement." Karkaroff sneered, "And one perhaps that I would be inclined to take seriously if it were not for the fact that this glory is coveted by all… and that you cannot merely explain away your name in that cup by throwing a fit."

"A fit-"

Karkaroff had already turned back to Dumbledore though. "We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, still sneering, "otherwise, we would have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It is no one's fault but Miss Potter's, Karkaroff," Snape cut in smoothly, causing Tempest to turn to him, _how was it her own fault?_ "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Miss Potter's determination to break rules is outstanding-"

"It's one thing to break rules than to bloody risk it all and enter an international death trap that only insane people would want to enter- no offence you three," Tempest shot the three proper champions a hurried look, only to receive bemused stares in return. "And I cannot say it enough times- I _did not put my name in_! Heck, even if I wanted to, I saw what happened to Fred and George! And if you _still_ think that I put my name in, then you can just go jump up your own-"

"_Thank_ you, Tempest, Severus." Dumbledore said firmly, breaking off a sentence that Tempest didn't really regret. Her eyes brushed across the other people in the room, most of which were clearly not too pleased with Tempest's speech.

Dumbledore was now looking down at Tempest, who for all her height was still shorter than Dumbledore, and she looked right back at him, daring him to read her expression.

"Did you put your name into the Goblet of Fire, Tempest?" He asked calmly.

"No." Tempest said hotly, she was aware of everyone watching her, obviously not believing her. Karkaroff scoffed loudly, while Snape glowered at her a bit more subtly.

"Did you ask an older student to put it in the Goblet of Fire for you?" asked Professor Dumbledore, ignoring both interruptions.

"_No._" said Tempest, trying to convey all of her honesty into that one word.

"Ah, but of course she is lying!" cried Madame Maxime, obviously unable to remain silent any longer. Snape was also shaking his head, lip curling.

"Anyone who has ever heard me lie, knows I can't lie for sh- I mean, knows that I couldn't lie to save my life!"

"She could not have crossed that Age Line," Minnie said sharply at the exact same time, and Tempest felt a rush of relief towards her. "I am sure we all agreed on that- Albus cast it himself, and it would have taken a-"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line." Shrugged Madame Maxime.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake-" Minnie said, and Tempest was growing more and more frustrated.

"It doesn't matter about the damn age line!" Tempest yelled, then backtracking quickly. As Hermione was constantly saying, Tempest always spoke before she thought. "I mean it doesn't matter whether or not the Age line worked or not- the fact was that I never crossed it- I never even got a meter's radius of that thing! Don't you lot have spells of potions that make people tell the truth, because by all means I'm open to them!"

There was silence for a few seconds, in which everyone merely stared at her.

"A bluff." Karkaroff finally sneered. "Although if you so wish we would be happy to, Professor Snape-"

"Professor Karkaroff! You know full well that use of Vertaserium on a student is forbidden! There must be a full case before the Ministry-" Minnie was aghast, and although Tempest was grateful, she was also slightly annoyed. It wasn't like a truth potion was going to kill her…. Unlike what she had heard about the Triwizard Tournament. After all, if she was proved innocent, maybe they could take her out of the Tournament…

"Unless of course, the one being subjected to the truth potion gives their full consent before witnesses, and there is a legitimate reason for Vertaserium to be used. I assume all gathered here in this room may be witnesses…"

Tempest had never been so glad to hear the Ministry official speak. "And I give you my full consent."

Dumbledore eyed Tempest for a long second, and Tempest met his eyes behind his crescent moon glasses evenly. "Then Severus, if you please…?"

Snape, who had been quiet for a while, gave Tempest a final glower, and then took out his wand, waving it in the air in what looked like a figure of eight motion.

A small glass, barely the size of one of Tempest's fingernails appeared in Snape's hand, and rather reluctantly he gave it to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore gave Tempest a searching gaze, and then unstopped the vial and handed it to Tempest.

Tempest took the small bottle, fumbling slightly, and now feeling oddly self-conscious as everyone in the room as watching her, most seeming to be holding their breath, she lifted the bottle to her lips and drained it in one swallow.

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest came to slowly, blinking as her brain seemed slightly fuzzy. "What happened? Did it work?"

Minnie and Dumbledore were standing right in front of her, Dumbledore just stowing his wand away as they took a step back.

It _seemed_ to have worked, as Diggory, Krum, Fleur, Bagman, Crouch and Madame Maxime looked slightly impressed, or if not impressed- satisfied, while Minnie just looked anxious, and Snape and Dumbledore had blank expressions- apart from the fact that Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling once again.

Karkaroff however, still did not look pleased. "So we have determined that the girl did have a hand in placing her name in the Goblet, but she still cannot compete, it is most irregular!"

Bagman took out a too-white handkerchief, and wiped his face, then looked at Mr Crouch, who looked almost skeletal in the firelight. However his voice was still its usual curt tone when he spoke. "We must follow the rules, and the rules clearly state in no uncertain means that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete In the tournament."

Tempest was horror stuck. So they had proven that she hadn't put her name in, but she still had to compete?

"Well Barty knows the rule book back to front!" said Bagman, beaming boyishly and turning away, back to Madame Maxime and Karkaroff as if the matter had been settled.

"Uh no." Tempest said flatly. "I forfeit." The entire room fell silent and they all stared at Tempest in what she thought was… _horror_? "I don't want to bloody compete, and all of you people obviously don't… what?"

"Take it back!" Minnie all but yelled at her, "You cannot forfeit-"

"Why on earth not? It gets me out of the tournament-"

"Binding magical contract," Dumbledore said, his voice not as loud as Minnie's but it still held an uncharacteristic note of urgency. "If you break such a contract- one that you made the moment your name came out of that cup- then you will lose your magic."

"I- cup- _what?_" Tempest yelped, "I take it back, I take it back! I take it back! Why didn't anyone say that sooner?"

Karkaroff did not look the least bit impressed, and his expression told Tempest very clearly that he would rather her have lost her magic than her compete.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff. He had dropped his smile and reasonable tone now, and the expression on his face was murderous. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It is only fair, Dumbledore."

"But it doesn't work like that! The Goblet's just gone out, it won't start until the next tournament-" Bagman faltered at the look Karkaroff gave him.

"-in which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff, ignoring Krum, who didn't seem to agree with his Headmaster. "In all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I did not expect something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Then you had better listen to the other half of your mind Karkaroff, empty threat," growled a voice from the door. "Or did you just become deaf too in the past few minutes? Would you risk your champion's magic? I believe forcing that choice upon someone and causing them to lose their magic gains you a spell in Azkaban… something I suppose you are quite familiar with."

Karkaroff clamped his mouth shut, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stared at Moody, Tempest apparently forgotten for the time being.

_Something I suppose you are quite familiar with…_

What had Karkaroff done in the past that had made him so familiar with Azkaban?

"But then again, that is not the only thing that can land you in Azkaban these days," Moody said, staring at Karkaroff with both mismatched eyes. "Trying to get someone killed might just do it too…"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Karkaroff said with an air of forced calm, even though Tempest could see his hands shaking.

"Don't you? It's very simple Karkaroff, someone put Miss Potter's name in that goblet- as we have proven she did not do it herself- and they knew she would have to compete if it came out."

"Clearly someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" burst out Madame Maxime.

Tempest wasn't exactly so sure that was the case, and then again, she wasn't so sure that Karkaroff had put her name in the cup either- as that was what Moody was implying- after all, Karkaroff seemed the one who was most against her competing.

"I don't want to take a bite of anything!" Tempest said exasperatedly. "Nor do I think anyone would go to such lengths just to make Hogwarts win- and of all the people to choose, I'm hardly the best competition! Can we focus on the how-the-hell-my-name-got-in-the-cup side of things now? Du- Professor Dumbledore? Professor Moody?"

"It was most likely an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm." Moody growled almost at once. "Only a powerful caster could hoodwink a magical object that powerful into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament… it would be my guess that they submitted Miss Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure she was the only one in the category."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, and Tempest wondered if the man just liked picking fights. "and a very ingenious theory it is - though of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously…"

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember…"

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Tempest was confused for a moment, then remembered Minnie talking about one 'Alastor Moody' in the holidays, and realised "Mad-Eye" could hardly be Moody's real first name. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction – Karkaroff's face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Tempest have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do… If there are any other alternatives- as my mind had provided me none- please speak now."

Dumbledore glanced around serenely, as Karkaroff glared, Snape scowled, Minnie looked worried, Madame Maxine didn't look pleased, but resigned, and Bagman seemed rather excited.

_I have an alternative!_ Tempest thought, _We flipping give everyone at this school a nice strong dose of Vertaswhatsit and rat out the idiot who put my name in the cup- then I can focus on the actual participation in the Tournament._

"Well, shall we crack on then?" Bagman asked, rubbing his hands together. "We've got to give our champions the instructions, Barty, want to do the honours?"

Tempest restrained herself from throwing something at Bagman, then turned to Mr Crouch.

Mr Crouch, who to Tempest seemed to come out of a deep reverie, began. "Yes, instructions… the first task. The first task is designed to test your daring," he moved closer to the fireplace, and even though he should have been twenty years younger than Minnie, (and wizards lived for two hundred years at least- Minnie sitting at sixty three, and Dumbledore at a hundred and forty one) he looked much older, and tired. "-so we are not going to tell you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard… Very important."

"-and witch." Tempest said under her breath, and Fleur, who was standing next to her, gave her a sideways glance, and to Tempest's surprise, a small smile.

"The first task will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for, or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament."

Tempest saw Crouch's eyes flicker slightly to Karkaroff, before he continued. "The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

_Well that's one of the good things then I guess._ Thought Tempest, as Mr Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that is all, is it Albus?"

"I think so." Said Dumbledore, and apparently it wasn't just Tempest who had noticed how tired Crouch looked, as Dumbledore continued, looking at Mr Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," said Mr Crouch, "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment… I've left young Weatherby in charge…"

Tempest stifled a laugh, and made a mental note to tell George and Fred about it.

"Very enthusiastic… a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told…"

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" said Dumbledore.

"Come on Barty, I'm staying! It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exiting here than at the office!" Said Bagman brightly.

"I think not, Ludo." Said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience, and Tempest personally wondered whether or not Crouch considered anything exciting.

"Professor Karkaroff- Madame Maxime- a nightcap?" asked Dumbledore, not deterred at all.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders, and with a parting glance from Fleur back at Tempest, steered her out of the room. Tempest could hear them speaking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they exited in silence, Krum also glancing back at the last second, no longer glaring, but rather a surly look at Tempest.

"Tempest, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at them both. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Tempest glanced at Cedric, who nodded, and they left together.

Tempest could feel Snape's glare boring holes in the back of her head as the door closed behind her.

The Great Hall was deserted now, something Tempest was immensely grateful for, and she walked next to Cedric, wondering what he was thinking.

"So," said Cedric, with a slight smile. "We're playing against each other again!"

Tempest shrugged, the last time they had played against each other, she had ended up falling off her broom over several hundred feet in the air. "Whatever." Tempest muttered.

"If you need any help…" Cedric trailed off. "I mean, it's not your fault that you're competing, and I know my house won't like it that you are much… But I'll tell them to lay off you alright? I'll explain what happened."

Tempest felt slightly relieved, and grateful at the same time. Cedric wasn't holding it against her. "Thanks. And, well, I guess you know I didn't want to be entered, and all, plus the fact that I know I should be wanting to win myself, but… I really hope you win the tournament Cedric."

Cedric stopped. "Thanks Tempest." He blinked for a second, "You know, you're pretty tall."

Tempest laughed, partly in surprise, and partly because Cedric sounded so surprised.

"Yeah, according to Min- I mean according to some people I've met, I inherited my dad's genes… apparently there's a threat that if I grow any taller they're going to have to rename the giants."

Cedric blinked, and then he laughed. "Funny… I hadn't heard that before…"

Tempest rolled her eyes. "_Thank you._ It gets old after a while though… and it's not like I actually intend to be funny. Maybe I'm just being sarcastic and people take it as a joke… or maybe I'm insulting someone and they're not smart enough to understand and they think I'm being funny."

"Your friends seem to do pretty well," Cedric said, raising his eyebrows as they walked.

"Oh, well, they're too nice." Tempest laughed. "And _way_ too forgiving… goodness, I've almost gotten them killed how many times, and yet they still stick by me."

They started walking again until they reached the marble staircase which led to the Gryffindor Common room. Cedric stopped outside a door to the right, and paused. "You know… I'm sorry about the way my dad reacted to you, I mean he's just…"

Tempest interrupted. "Yeah, no, it's fine."

Cedric gave her a searching look, which reminded Tempest uncomfortably of Dumbledore, and then he opened the door, turning back for a second. "You know Tempest, you're not bad."

And Tempest wondered why the room seemed rather hot.

~Y.-.Y~

"Balderdash." Said Tempest dully to the Fat Lady, and the woman in the painting gave her a rather sympathetic look that Tempest felt she didn't deserve, then swung inwards.

The blast of noise that met Tempest's ears when the portrait opened almost knocked her backward. Next thing she knew, she was being wrenched inside the common room by about a dozen pairs of hands, and was facing the whole of Gryffindor House, all of whom were screaming, applauding, and whistling.

"You should've told us you'd entered!" bellowed Fred; he looked half annoyed, half deeply impressed.

"I didn't," Tempest said. "I don't know how -"

But Angelina had now swooped down upon her; "Oh if it couldn't be me, at least it's a Gryffindor -"

"You'll be able to pay back Diggory for that last Quidditch match, Tempest!" shrieked Katie Bell, another of the Gryffindor Chasers.

Tempest tried to reply over the noise of the crowd, "But I don't want to- he seems decent…"

"We've got food, Tempest, come and have some -"

"I'd really rather not-"

But nobody wanted to hear that… nobody wanted to hear what they didn't want to know. And apparently no-one had realized that Tempest was in no mood to be celebrating _anything,_ much less her entering into a death contest… Tempest couldn't get away either, whenever she tried to sidle over to the staircase up to the dormitories, the crowd around her refused to let her go, shoving another butterbeer into her hands pouring more questions onto her… Everyone wanted to know how she had done it, how she had tricked Dumbledore's Age Line and managed to get her name into the goblet…

"Wanna escape?"

Tempest turned away from the mass of bodies and to her relief saw George.

"_Please_."

She had only just grabbed his hand when his idiotic twin appeared out of nowhere, and then instead of being led _away_, she was being dragged further back into the crowd. "Fred, I really don't want to-"

"Speech! Speech! Speech! SPEECH! SPEECH!"

Fred shoved Tempest up onto the coffee table in the middle of the common room, and then the room quietened considerably as everyone turned to look at Tempest.

Grimacing, Tempest faced the crowd. "Uh, hi then." she said awkwardly, "Look, I'm glad you're all happy that I'm a champion, and that I get to get back at Diggory for last year- let me finish-" as some of the Gryffindor Quidditch team let out cheers, "and that you all want to know how I put my name in the cup, and right now I don't care whether or not you believe me or not, but I'm going to say it for the last time- _I didn't do it_. Okay? I didn't put my name in the cup, and I _don't_ want to get back at Diggory- I mean he won the match last year fair and square, and he is a decent guy really,"

"Come on! Pull the other one! If you didn't put your name in the cup, then who did?" yelled Lee.

"I don't know," Tempest said flatly, "but I drank Vertaserium with the other champions watching, and Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, so you can ask them if you want proof, okay?"

There was silence from the Gryffindor's.

"Now I know you want me to bring honour to Gryffindor and all, and I promise I'll try my best to win, and not to get myself killed in this Tournament-"

There were several laughs.

"-but honestly I think we've had enough attention already, me especially,"

No one denied it.

"-and so please don't go around bragging that Gryffindor's got a champion too, alright? I don't want the attention, I don't want to get back at Diggory, I didn't put my name in the cup, so are we clear on that?"+

There was silence for a few seconds, and then Lavender spoke up. "How do you know you're telling the truth? I mean who wouldn't want all the glory?"

"Me." Tempest stated flatly.

George spoke next. "Get your head screwed on straight Brown! Tempest wouldn't lie, and in any case if she were we'd be able to tell- she's the worst liar in the world since Neville,"

There was another chorus of laughter, and Neville himself laughed too.

"-and you heard what she said, you want proof, go talk to McGonagall."

George climbed up onto the table and slung an arm around Tempest's shoulders. "Now seeing as our Chosen One didn't put her name into the Goblet, and seeing as this competition can be deadly, and we can be pretty sure that whoever put Tempest's name in didn't mean it as a joke- and that the other houses won't like it much that Tempest is a champion, we all need to stick by her, alright?"

There was silence for a heartbeat, and then the entire Gryffindor common room erupted into cheers even louder than before, and Tempest was being swarmed with people all hugging her and seeming even more enthusiastic that she hadn't entered herself after all and had come clean.

Finally, Tempest saw Hermione in the crowd, and making various excuses, the two of them escaped into the girl's dormitories.

"You know most people would just have soaked up the praise and boasted about getting past the age line," Hermione began. "You did the hard thing and actually told them the truth, even though it might have made you unpopular."

Tempest looked at Hermione in confusion. "Where's this coming from?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Ron's mad at you."

"Well- Wait, what?"

"After Professor Flitwick dismissed us, Ron went straight to the boys dormitories and Ginny found out from Seamus that Ron thinks that you entered yourself, and that you used the invisibility cloak to get under the Age Line without him, and now he's furious. In his words, you're 'an attention seeking prat, and even if she didn't put her name in the cup, I bet she's wallowing in the glory'"

"What? That's ridiculous!" Tempest sprung up, about to go to the boy's dormitories, drag Ron down, and force the truth into him, but Hermione grabbed her arm.

"Tempest, calm down, you can do it in the morning, come on, Ron will burn it off, and we've got to find out who put your name into that cup."

Tempest slumped back down, kicking her shoes off and shrugging off the Gryffindor banner, then scooping up Nyx from where the cat lay curled up on Tempest's pillow, and lying down on her bed, staring at the red and gold hanging above her. "Well don't you think I'm an 'attention seeking prat'?" she asked dully.

Hermione shook her head furiously. "Come on Tempest, people say fame and glory are most people's bread and butter, but I know what you go through, and even if you enjoyed it, I wouldn't envy you."

Tempest rolled over onto her side and stared at her bushy haired friend. "Thanks Hermione."

"Anytime Tempest."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: Expectations

_"Your name?"_

_Tempest's eyes glazed over and became pure white and blank as she replied in a monotone. "Tempestas Lily Potter."_

_"Which spell did you master in third year, and what shape does it take?" Dumbledore asked, to confirm her identity as an extra precaution._

_"The Patronus Charm, and it takes on the shape of a doe."_

_Dumbledore pretended not to notice the visible start Professor Snape made behind him, and gave a quick nod. "Very well, did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"_

_"No."_

_"Did you ask an older student, or anyone else for that matter, to put your name in the Goblet?"_

_"No."_

_"Did you know, before your name was called from the Goblet of Fire, anything about your name being entered into the cup?"_

_"No."_

_Dumbledore turned from Tempest to the rest of the room. "Satisfied?" He asked._

_When there were no objections, he took out his wand and muttered "Finite Incantatem."_

_Tempest blinked, and her eyes became their usual green. "What happened? Did it work?"_

Professor Dumbledore withdrew his head from the Pensive, sighing.

"This can't go on Albus! First the Dark Mark, now this-" Minerva's voice cut into his thoughts. "The girl has been through too much for her age, can't she have a normal year as a mere teenager for once?"

Dumbledore did not look up. "And what do you suggest Minerva?"

"Put an end to it! Don't let Temp- Miss Potter compete! Shut down the entire tournament if that's what it takes- it isn't worth the risk Albus!"

"You heard Barty, the rules are clear. Binding magical contract.." Dumbledore trailed off bitterly.

"To Merlin with Barty's rules- and since when did you care? The first Triwizard Tournament in over fifty years and this happens… It isn't just coincidence Dumbledore!"

Snape's voice cut in silkily. "Albus, I too find it difficult to believe that this is mere coincidence, but perhaps, if we were to discover the true meaning of these happenings, it would be better to- for the time being… _Let them unfold_…"

Minerva turned to Snape, aghast. "What? Do nothing? Offer him up as bait? Tempest is a girl! Not a piece of meat!"

Dumbledore noted her slip in calling Tempest by her first name, bud did not comment, directing his attention instead, to Severus. "I agree.. With Severus. Alastor, keep an eye on Tempest will you?"

Alastor Moody stumped out of the corner where he had been lurking. "Aye. I can do that. Keep her out of trouble as best I can."

"Don't let her know Alastor- she must be anxious enough as it is… Only fourteen… Knowing what lies ahead…" Dumbledore murmured.

Minerva threw her arms up in the air and turned away, exiting Dumbledore's office with a bang of the door, which caused Fawkes to shuffle his feathers haughtily.

Finally looking up from the Pensive, Dumbledore looked at Snape, who as always looked emotionless.

"Goodnight Alastor." Dumbledore dismissed him, only to call to Snape back, "A word, if you please Severus?"

Snape stopped, turning back. "Yes Albus?" he asked coldly.

Dumbledore finally looked up from the Pensive. "I was wondering Severus… About your thoughts on what has been unveiled tonight."

Snape tilted his head slightly. "I am not sure what you mean Headmaster."

"As to Tempest Potter's Patronus form."

Snape's face hardened. "I do not think that that is any of your concern Albus."

"You thought it would be a stag did you not?"

Snape's voice was frigid. "The Patronus adapts itself to the gender of the caster."

Dumbledore sighed, and ran a long fingered hand down his face and waist-length beard. "You know as well as I do that is not the case. Kingsley Shacklbolt's lynx is in fact a female, Nymphadora Tonks's rabbit is a male.. And then there is _your_ patronus Severus…"

Wordlessly Snape whirled around and exited Dumbledore's office, slamming the door behind him, and Dumbledore watched him go, his face set in an uncommon expression of remorse.

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest stormed down to the Great Hall with Hermione the following morning, intent on finding Ron and beating the truth into him, only to find that he'd vanished.

Not wanting to stay in the Great Hall for any longer than she had to, Tempest grabbed a stack of toast and cup of coffee, then headed for the Black Lake..

The Ravenclaws and Slytherins were being insufferable, shouting insults at her back as she left, while the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs yelled back, Cedric- true to his word having informed his house of Tempest's situation. Tempest couldn't help but feel a tiny bit relieved at their defence. Regardless of the fact that she didn't really care what they thought- there was only so much verbal abuse Tempest could take without exploding and hexing the entire hall until they _shut up_ and listened to her.

It was a cold morning, and the trio munched on toast as they walked down the rocky shore by the lake.

"Now tell us everything," said Ginny, who evidently hadn't heard the whole story yet, and so quickly, brushing over the details, Tempest told them all about what had happened after the calling of the champions.

Hermione didn't look very surprised at Karkaroff's reaction, but she was indignant that Dumbledore hadn't done more to keep Tempest out of the tournament.

"So he just let you compete? You could be killed Tempest! I mean I've researched the history of the past tournaments- and it's got a bloody past Tempest! One of the champions _died_ in the last tournament- which was sixty years ago by the way, and the ones before that were filled with stories of maiming and most champions turned on each other too… It's dangerous!"

Tempest shook her head. "Yeah, thanks Hermione, just what I needed to hear." She turned to Ginny. "_Please_ say you're going give me _some_ good news!"

Ginny grimaced. "Sorry Temp, but I've got nothing but bad news."

Tempest sighed, and kicked at the rocks on the shore. One of them sailed out across the lake and was snatched up by the Giant Squid. "Fine, what?"

"Well apparently Ron's managed to turn Seamus and Dean against you, I mean, I guess they're just following his lead because they're friends, even if they don't believe the crap that he's spouting about you- and now Fred and George are trying to put some sense into that thick skull of his, but it's not working."

"Yeah… Well, thanks anyway Ginny, and tell the twins I said thanks for trying." Tempest sat down heavily on the shore, ignoring the sharp rocks which dug against her legs, as Hermione and Ginny sat too.

For a moment there was only the sound of munching toast as the trio watched the Giant Squid try to catch a bird which was flying over the lake.

"You know Tempest- about Ron-" Hermione began tentatively.

"Yeah! About Ron!" Burst out Tempest, "Why does he have to be such a prat anyway? I mean he _knows_ me! He knows I don't like the attention- he knows that I would _never_ do anything as stupid as putting my name in that damn cup, and even if I did, I would have told him first-"

"Yes, but Tempest, don't you see? He's jealous!" Hermione cried despairingly.

Tempest gapped at her. "Jealous? Of what exactly?" She asked incredulously. "Jealous that everyone gaps at me when I walk by, jealous that I might get killed this year- just like every other year, jealous that-"

Ginny cut in, "Tempest, it's not like that, I would know- I'm his sister for goodness sake, and a year younger than him to boot- but well, regardless of whether or not you like it, or ask for it, it is _you_ that always gets the attention, and I know that you would rather have no-one know your name and hide in the shadows-" Ginny said quickly as Tempest opened her mouth furiously, then laughing at the last sentence, "But, well, Ron's the youngest boy at home, and he's got to compete with the rest of us for attention, then at school it's you who everyone sees. Tempest, and then at class it's Hermione, and well, he never gets _seen_ I guess. But he's your best friend, and so he keeps quiet, never says anything, but now…"

Tempest slumped down. "Great. Just great. I just wish I could pin him down and yell at him that I'd switch positions anytime! I'd love a family like yours Ginny, honestly, and I swear I'd maybe even kill to not have everyone gapping at my face every time they see me…"

Hermione pulled Tempest into a hug. "We _know_ Tempest, just… Well, Ron's Ron. He'll get over it and see the truth."

Tempest laughed harshly. "Yeah? When?"

Neither of them replied.

"Well," Hermione began, "You know what to do when we get up to the castle-"

"Yeah? Hex anyone who doesn't believe me, and then give Ron a kick up the a-"

"Write to Sirius."

Tempest blinked at Hermione and Ginny, who had both spoken at the same time. Finally Hermione spoke alone. "You've got to tell him what's happened, he'll want to know, he asked you to tell him what's going on at Hogwarts after all. Now, I've got some parchment… Ginny do you have a quill?"

"Wait, wait, wait…" Tempest shook her head, "Are you two bloody crazy? He's just left the country, is _safe_, and here you are wanting to drag him back where he might get caught… just because we don't have Dementors breathing down our necks now doesn't mean that they aren't still looking for him! If we tell him what's going on, he'll be walking straight back into Azkaban!"

"He's going to find out anyway, and he'd want it to be you who told him!"

Tempest let out an angry breath, clenching her fists at her sides. "If it was possible to burn every single newspaper in the world…"

"But there isn't." Hermione said dryly.

"Well, not yet there isn't." Tempest said darkly. "I hate it when you're right Hermione." Seeing Hermione and Ginny's looks, Tempest crammed the last piece of toast into her mouth and stood. "Fine, I'll write to him."

She helped Ginny up, and then the three began to walk back to the castle.

"Whose owl am I going to use?" Tempest asked, as she climbed the stairs to the Owlery. "I can't use Minnie's, not at school, and sides, Indira's much too conspicuous, and Sirius told me not to use her, and I doubt Ron would let me used Pig, and it's times like these I wish I had my own owl."

Ginny shrugged. "You can use Athena, mum bought me her last year after our trip to Egypt, and if the offer's up, I'll trade you her for Nyx."

A smile quirked at Tempest's lips. "No thanks Ginny, Nyx was a gift from Minnie, and c'mon, she's stuck with me for three years."

Both Ginny and Hermione knew Tempest lived with Minnie, they'd even been over once or twice, and had even taken to calling Professor McGonagall Minnie too- (outside of school of course)- it was only Ron who thought that it was weird, and he insisted that teachers didn't have lives outside of school, they just walked into a broom closet for the holidays and stayed there until school began again.

_Boys._

Tempest scowled, remembering Ron's pig-headedness, and then concentrated on the stairs.

~Y.-.Y~

They reached the Owlery, Hermione giving Tempest a scrap of parchment, and Ginny shoving a bottle of ink and a quill into her hand.

While Ginny coaxed Athena down from the rafters, Tempest sat on one of the long benches circling the tower, with Hermione, who kept adding things to the letter over Tempest's shoulder.

_Dear Padfoot,_

_I'm being forced to write this letter- although face it, we both knew I'd be writing soon anyway, and it'd be sort of nice if I could sent you a letter without me having a problem or wanting to use you as a shoulder to cry on… huh. Maybe sarcasm sounds better in my head… anyway, Hermione's glaring at me, so I might as well get to the point because you're going to hear about it one way or the other- but the Triwizard Tournament's being held at Hogwarts this year, and while that's all fine and dandy, it turns out that some idiot's gone and entered my name in it. And now I'm the fourth champion versing three seventeen year olds in a death match._

_Really great writing to you Pads. _

_Annoyed beyond words- Tempest._

"Done," Tempest announced as Ginny came over, Athena perched on her shoulder.

Tempest tied the letter to Athena's outstretched leg, and then watched together with Ginny and Hermione as Athena took off, flapping into the distance.

"Come on," Tempest sighed eventually. "Let's go."

~Y.-.Y~

If Tempest thought that the following day- when everyone would have sort-of gotten used to the idea of Tempest being a champion, she was wrong. Regardless of the speech Dumbledore had made about Tempest's innocence in the entering of her name into the Goblet of Fire- apart from the Gryffindors who believed Tempest, and the Hufflepuffs who believed Cedric, everyone thought that Tempest had entered her own name into the Goblet. To make a long speech short- they were not impressed.

The Hufflepuffs, even if they were decent enough to Tempest, seemed slightly cooler than usual, even if they did not hesitate to defend her when the Slytherins began calling insults. It was not that they did not like Tempest, or blamed her, but it was that they felt like Tempest had stolen some of their own champion's glory, and it was only magnified by the fact that Hufflepuff very rarely got any glory at all, and Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any- the one time he had beaten Tempest at Quiddtich, and that was because of the Dementors.

Tempest didn't mind that much, had their positions been reversed, she would have felt the same way after all. It was Ron who was really pissing her off. He, along with Dean and Seamus were avoiding her at all costs, and whispering about her in plain earshot like a pack of giggling girls. Really, Tempest was more disgusted and irritated at their immaturity than hurt that they didn't believe her.

Hermione was torn, on one hand, she thought both Tempest and Ron were being stupid- both of them refusing to talk to each other, insisting that the other had to apologize first, and on the other, she was better friends with Tempest (after all they were both girls, and Tempest was the only one who understood what Hermione was talking about when she started going on about Potions), but while Tempest had Ginny, Ron didn't really have anyone else, Dean and Seamus were rather close, and more often than not, Ron was left hanging on at the edges of conversation, feeling left out.

Ginny hands down refused to talk to Ron either, calling him a 'prat that needs to get his eyes scrubbed and look at the bigger picture'.

So when Care of Magical Creatures came around, Tempest didn't know whether or not to feel supported, or just plain frustrated.

Tempest usually liked Care of Magical Creatures, as she would be able to see Hagrid, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Slytherins too, meeting them officially face-to-face since she had become a champion, and Tempest was in no mood for exchanging petty insults with the Slytherins.

Predictably Malfoy, backed with Crabbe and Goyle were waiting for them with their usual sneers fixed in place.

"Ah look boys, it's the champion!" Malfoy said to Crabbe and Goyle, as soon as Tempest and Hermione came within earshot. "Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt she's going to be around much longer… half the Triwizard champions have died… how long d'you reckon you're going to last, Potter?"

Tempest wanted to snort very rudely at their exaggeration of the deaths, even though she was quite nervous herself, but stopped as Hagrid emerged from the back of his cabin balancing a teetering tower of crates, all of which held a very large Blast-Ended Skrewt.

To everyone in the class's horror, Hagrid said that all of the Skrewts had been killing each other off, and therefore they all needed to take their Skrewt for a walk, so they could burn off their excess energy.

"Yay." Tempest muttered under her breath. "Just what I needed."

"Take this thing for a walk?" Repeated Malfoy, disgusted. "And where exactly are we meant to fix the leash? Around the sting, the blasting end, or the sucker?"

Tempest, even though still furious at Malfoy, couldn't help but agree it was a valid point.

"Roun' the middle," said Hagrid, demonstrating. "Er- yeh might want ter put on yer dragon-hide gloves, jus' as an extra precaution, like. Tempest- come here an' help me with this big one…"

Hagrid's real intention though, was to talk to Tempest in private. He waited for the rest of the class to set off with their Skrewts, and then turned to Tempest, and said very seriously, "So- yer competin', Tempest. In the tournament. School Champion."

"Maybe if people stopped _fixating _on that, I might be a bit happier."

"No idea who put yeh in fer it, Tempest?"

"None. And everyone else seems to think I did! It's only the Gryffindors who believe me- and that's because they know I can't lie, and the Hufflepuffs, well they don't say in so much as words, and they believe me because of Cedric and Dumbledore, but I can tell they're not really convinced."

Hagrid let out a huff of air behind his beard. "Yes, well, they're not likely to be convinced now are they? You, champion an' all, everythin' seems to happen to you, don't it Tempest?"

Tempest didn't answer. Everything _did_ seem to happen to her, which was more or less what Hermione and Ginny had said.

The pair of them looked out over the lawn; the class was widely scattered now, and all in great difficulty. The Skrewts were now over three feet long, and extremely powerful. No longer shell-less and colourless, they had developed a kind of thick, greyish, shiny armour. They looked like a cross between giant scorpions and elongated crabs - but still without recognisable heads or eyes. They had become immensely strong and very hard to control.

"Look like they're havin' fun, don' they?" Hagrid said happily.

Tempest eyed Malfoy, who was running away from his Skrewt, blond hair ablaze. "Oh, I am. I am indeed."

~Y._.Y~

The following days tried Tempest's self-control to breaking point, and frayed her nerves down until she was irritated and snappy at anyone who came near her. She knew it wasn't the best reaction for those who were trying to help her, nor was it the way she would usually act- but she was just _annoyed_ at the depths that some of the Slytherins sank to, to try to humiliate her, or just make her life that much harder.

Hexes in the corridors, unimaginative and repetitive insults from the Slytherins and more were just inconvenices, true, but all of them piled up on each other again and again tested Tempest's patience as it had never been before.

Also, the Ravenclaws were acting like stuck up prats. True Tempest hadn't really expected anything less than what the Slytherins were giving her, and she knew the Hufflepuffs would automatically side with Cedric, but Tempest just didn't understand why the Ravenclaws were acting just like the Slytherins at the moment. It wasn't like she wanted them to support her or anything- just for them to remain neutral and bloody leave her alone like they usually did would have been fine… but _nooo…._

Meanwhile, there was no reply from Sirius. Athena had not yet returned, and Tempest was so distracted most of the time, that even though she usually did brilliantly in Charms- almost as well as Hermione, she failed at the Summoning Charms, causing Professor Flitwick to give her extra homework for the first time ever in Charms.

"It's not really that difficult Tempest," Hermione tried to reassure her as they left for Double Potions with the Slytherins. "You just weren't concentrating properly."

"Really?" Tempest snapped back, "Well maybe I would concentrate better if you weren't always muttering in my ear!"

Hermione drew back, her expression hurt, and Tempest sighed. "Sorry." She mumbled. "Just… stressed I suppose."

Hermione had nodded understandingly and quickly forgiven Tempest, but Tempest couldn't help thinking that along with making her life even harder, now the tournament was making her act horrible even to her friends.

Double Potions was always terrible, after all, Potions by itself was horrible too, but being shut for an hour and a half in the dungeons with Snape and the Slytherins was nothing short of torture. All of them seemed to want to punish Tempest in any way possible for daring to become a Hogwarts champion- and Snape, even though he had seen with his own eyes Tempest drink the Vertaserium, it didn't seem to make a difference.

When Tempest and Hermione arrived at Snape's dungeon, they found the Slytherins waiting outside, all of them wearing a large badge on the front of their robes. For a moment, Tempest thought- very stupidly, that they were S.P.E.W badges, until she saw they were all bearing the same messages, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dim passage:

**SUPPORT CEDRIC DIGGORY- THE ****_REAL_**** HOGWARTS CHAMPION!**

"Like them, Potter?" shouted Malfoy as Tempest approached. "And this isn't all they do- look!"

He pressed his badge and the message upon it vanished, only to be replaced by another once, which glowed green: **POTTER STINKS!**

The Slytherins howled with laughter. All of them pressed their badges too, until the message: **POTTER STINKS** was shining brightly all around Tempest.

Tempest struggled to contain her temper. She had endured years of humiliation and embarrassment far worse than this with the Dursleys. This was nothing. It was merely one bloated-headed boy spouting insults that meant less than dust. She would _not_ lose her temper.

"Oh really funny, very witty." Hermione drawled to Malfoy, sarcasm dripping from her words. Tempest felt a rush of gratitude to Hermione.

Ron was standing against the wall with Dean and Seamus. He wasn't laughing, but he wasn't doing anything to support Tempest either. Tempest shot him a filthy look as she went to stand by the opposite wall.

"Want one, Granger?" said Malfoy, holding out a badge which he took from a pocket in his robes. "I've got loads. But don't touch my hand, now. I've just washed it you see. I don't want Mudbloods sliming it up."

A roar of rage sounded in Tempest's ears even though no one had said anything. All of the pent up frustration and anger Tempest had been feeling for days seemed to burst through a damn in her chest. She had her wand out before she'd thought about what she was doing. People all around them scrambled out of the way, backing down the corridor. They all knew Tempest was famous for her hexes and curses. Elementals especially. Even with all the gossip and rumours floating around, apparently Tempest still hadn't lost her reputation.

"Tempest!" Hermione said warningly, grabbing Tempest's arm. Tempest shook her off without even looking at her.

"Go on then, Potter," Malfoy said quietly, taking out his own wand. "Moody's not here to look after you now- do it, if you've got the guts-"

"It's not guts, Malfoy," Tempest sneered, "Maybe it's just the brain cells needed to cast a spell that you don't own, that I do."

For a second they glared at each other from across the hallway, and then at exactly the same time they acted.

"Tempestas!" Tempest yelled.

"Densaugeo!" Malfoy screamed.

Blinded by rage, Tempest's aim was off, and the jet of blue light shot from Tempest's wand in Goyle's direction, twisting in mid-air, and then a howl of wind filled the room as the sheet of air flew towards Goyle, picking him up and slamming him against the celling, where he hung for a second, then dropped to the ground with a thud and _crack_.

Malfoy had ducked though, and his spell had missed too, hitting Hermione instead.

Goyle wasn't moving, and Crabbe was muttering something about a broken arm, but Hermione was whimpering in panic, her hands clutching at her mouth.

"Hermione!"

Ron had hurried forwards to see what was wrong with her, and Tempest turned just to see Ron dragging Hermione's hand away from her face. It wasn't a pretty sight. Hermione's front teeth- already larger than average- were now growing much too fast, she was looking more and more like a beaver as her teeth elongated, past her bottom lip, towards her chin… Panic-stricken, she felt them, and let out a terrified cry.

"And what is all this noise about?" said a voice from the only person who could have made the situation worse.

Snape had arrived. All the Slytherins clamoured to give their explanation's. Snape pointed a long thin finger at Malfoy and said, "Explain."

"Potter attacked me, sir-"

"Hippogriff balls! We hexed at the same time!" Tempest yelled, "He called Hermione a-"

"-and she used an air elemental, and Goyle's broken his arm- look-"

Snape ignored Tempest, and examined Goyle, who was conscious now, and white as a sheet. His arm _was_ covered in blood- but then Tempest didn't regret it… If only it had been Malfoy…

"Hospital wing, Goyle." Snape said calmly.

"Malfoy got Hermione!" Ron yelled angrily, "Look!"

He forced Hermione to show Snape her teeth- she was doing her best to hide them, which was hard as they had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles behind Snape's back.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, "I see no difference."

Hermione let out a whimper, her eyes filled with tears, and she turned on her heel and ran, all the way up the corridor and out of sight.

Tempest didn't know whether or not it was a good thing, or just plain bad luck, that she and Ron began shouting at Snape at the same time, yelling profanities and insulting him so that he ended up lower than hell… Lucky or unlucky that their voices echoed so much in the stone corridor, that in the confused din, it was impossible for him to hear exactly what they were calling him. He got the gist however.

"Let's see," he said, in is silkiest voice. "Fifty points from Gryffindor, and a detention for Miss Potter and Mr Weasley. Now get inside, or it'll be a week's worth of detention."

Tempest stood there trembling, trying to force herself to do the rational thing and shut up and go in, after all, everyone except her and Ron had already filed into the classroom, even Malfoy was seated, smirking at Tempest.

But Tempest's ears were ringing, the injustice of it all hammering down on her, and she _hated_ Snape, _hated_ him so much…

"_Inside._" Snape snarled, and Tempest whirled around and stalked into the classroom with Ron, walking straight down to the back and dropping her bag on her desk, radiating fury, and she saw Ron shaking too, and for a second Tempest almost forgave Ron's pig-headedness, then sanity returned, and Tempest walked to the back of the room, throwing her bag down on an empty seat..

On the other side of the room, Malfoy smirked at Tempest, flashing his badge at her, and once again, **POTTER STINKS** surrounded her, glowing in the darkness. Tempest sat there fuming, trying to control her breathing and get rid of the haze of red mist that seemed to be obscuring her vision.

"Antidotes!" Snape announced, his black eyes glittering unpleasantly. "You should all have prepared your recipes by now. I want you to brew them carefully, and then, we will be selecting someone on whom to test one."

Snape's black eyes met Tempest's green, and Tempest sneered straight back at the Potions master. Oh he could _try_ to poison her, but thankfully Tempest knew her way around a cauldron well enough so that Snape could shove a whole bleeding poisoned carcass down her throat and she'd be fine.

As Snape continued talking, Tempest let herself fall into the very entertaining notion of turning Snape into an actual bat and then shoving him in a cauldron, slamming the lid down, and boiling him alive… so tempting…

Then a knock on the dungeon door pulled Tempest out of her daydream,.

Colin Creevy burst into the dungeon, beaming at Tempest, then walked up to Snape's desk.

"Yes?" Said Snape curtly, glaring at the boy.

"Please, sir, I'm supposed to take Tempest Potter upstairs."

Snape stared down his hooked nose at Colin, who seemed to visibly shrink.

"Miss Potter has another hour of Potions to complete," Snape said coldly. "She will go when this class is finished."

Colin went pink with embarrassment. "Sir, I mean, Mr Bagman wants her," he said nervously. "All the champions have to go, I think they want to take-"

"Uh, I'd really rather not go." Tempest said quickly. As much as she detested Snape, she didn't really want to go do anything relatively tournament related.

"But you have to!" Colin said, his wide eyes meeting Tempest's. "They need all of the champions there, I think they're checking their wands and-"

"Very well," Snape snapped. "Miss Potter, leave your things here. I want you back down here later to test your antidote."

"Please sir, she's got to take her things with her," squeaked Colin. "All the champions…"

"Very well! Miss Potter- take your bag and get out of my sight!"

Tempest sighed, but grabbed her bag, swung it over her shoulder, and headed for the door. She ignored the heat of Snape's glare, and the **POTTER STINKS** badges that flashed her way as the dungeon door closed behind her.

"Amazing Tempest, isn't it? You being champion?" chattered Colin, bouncing beside Tempest's long strides.

"Whatever." Tempest said dully. "What do they want me for again?"

"Something about your wand, and then they're going to take photos!"

_Photos?_ "Seriously? It's not enough to actually make me compete, but now they need to photograph us like we're bloody show-dogs?" Tempest snorted, ignoring Colin's shocked look at her language.

"Bye," Tempest muttered to Colin when they reached the right door. Tempest knocked, then walked in.

She was in a small classroom, the desks shoved to the sides of the room, making a space in the middle, and there were three desks in front of the blackboard covered in a long length of velvet. Seated behind them velvet covered desks were Ludo Bagman and a witch who was dressed much too flamboyantly for Tempest's liking.

Viktor Krum was standing in a corner, gazing moodily at the floor, while Cedric and Fleur were talking. Fleur looked a great deal happier than Tempest had ever seen her, she was smiling brilliantly, and she looked quite at ease.

When Fleur saw her, to Tempest's utter shock, she grinned, and waved Tempest over. Tempest was shocked. For a second, the silver haired beauty looked like a normal –although still stunningly beautiful- person.

A rather fat man holding a large black camera which was smoking worriedly, was alternating between watching Fleur and Tempest out of the corner of his eyes.

Bagman saw Tempest, and bounded forward. "There she is! Champion number four! In you come Tempest, in you come… nothing to worry about- just a wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment-"

"What?" Tempest said flatly. Why would they need to weigh her wand? Checking it sure, but weighing it?

"We have to ensure that your wands are fully functional, no problems, you know, as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead," said Bagman. "The expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo-shoot. This is Rita Skeeter." He added, gesturing vaguely to the over-dressed witch. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet…"

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter, her eyes on Tempest. "I wonder if I could have a little word with Tempest before we start?" she said to Bagman, but her eyes were still fixed on Tempest. "The youngest champion, you know, to add a little bit of colour?"

"Certainly!" cried Bagman. "That is- if Tempest has no objection?"

"No." Tempest said frigidly. "I'd really rather not."

"Oh no, don't be nervous- I it's just a short interview dear- the public want to know you…"

"And maybe I don't give a damn what the public wants." Tempest said coldly. Usually she wasn't really the rude, and she did have some tiny amount of restraint around adults, but there was something about Skeeter…

"Well," Skeeter said, looking affronted, "If that is the case-"

Fleur, to Tempest's surprise, spoke up, "What zhe iz trying to say is zat zhe would rather not 'ave an interview with _you_." She said pointedly, and as much as Tempest agreed with the thinly veiled insult, she was surprised that fleur was helping her- Tempest- her competition.

Tempest turned her back on Skeeter and walked over to Fleur and Cedric. "So, hi." Tempest said rather blandly to the pair as after a long silence Skeeter began talking to the man with the camera.

Cedric laughed. "Don't worry, Skeeter was hounding us a moment ago, Fleur had to take out her wand until the woman backed off."

Tempest gave a smile. "So she was bothering you too? What kind of questions was she asking?"

Fleur raised her eyebrows. "Ze woman 'as questioning Madame's teaching skills- zhe waz insulting my school, and zhen asking as to whezer or not I 'ad a… _Boyfriend_? I do not trust 'er with information about me." She concluded with a firm nod.

Tempest found herself relaxing slightly as Cedric began talking about all the articles Skeeter had written about his father- degrading his works in the Auror office.

When Cedric made an allusion of Skeeter as a garden gnome digging around for controversial stories, Tempest laughed, and began describing the time when she was staying at the Burrow, and George had tied a garden gnome to a broomstick and sent it whizzing around the house, then coming back, scooping George up, and depositing him upside down in a large puddle of mud.

Fleur then started talking about Beauxbatons, which sounded like a school almost as excellent as Hogwarts. Apparently (judging by what Tempest heard,) Beauxbatons was located somewhere in France, where it was cold for most of the year round, but always warm inside the castle walls. Lessons were held in high-roofed rooms, the walls made of ice that did not melt.

Apart from the obvious haughtiness that Fleur displayed, Tempest actually found herself enjoying talking to her. After the first few minutes, the silver haired girl stopped looking down at Tempest, and rather talked to her as an equal. Tempest found it rather refreshing for a change. If she had had a gripe about Fleur before it was her overbearing superiority, but now that it had faded, she really was quite decent.

Their conversation was interrupted when the door to the room opened, and Dumbledore entered, followed by Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Mr Crouch, and to Tempest's astonishment- Mr Ollivander.

The four judges sat next to Bagman, while Ollivander remained standing in the space in the middle of the room.

"May I introduce Mr Ollivander?" Dumbledore said, addressing the champions. "HE will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Mr Ollivander looked exactly the same as he had the last time Tempest had seen him- three years ago. He was an old wizard (not holding a candle to Dumbledore though,) with large pale eyes, and he stood hunched over slightly as he spoke. "Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first please?"

Fleur swept over to him, and handed him her wand.

"Hmmm," he said, as he twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton, and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. He then brought it close to his eyes and examined it carefully. "Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…"

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," said Fleur. "One of my grandmuzzer's"

So Fleur was part Veela, thought Tempest, that'd be one thing I'd look forward to telling Ron, if he wasn't being a world-class prat.

"Yes," murmured Ollivander. "Yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands… however, to each his own, and if this suits you…"

Mr Ollivander ran his fingers down along the wand, checking for scratches or bumps, then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.

"Very well, it's in fine working order," the man said, scooping up the flowers and giving them to Fleur, along with her wand.

"Mr Diggory, you next." Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" said Mr. Ollivander, with much more enthusiasm, as Cedric handed over his wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn… must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches…ash…pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition… You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," said Cedric, grinning.

Tempest glanced at her own. It looked well enough. She didn't _polish _it for goodness sakes, but she did keep it clean.

Mr Ollivander sent a cloud of silver smoke up to the ceiling with Cedric's wand, then seemed satisfied. "Mr Krum, if you please."

Krum slouched, round-shouldered and duck-footed towards Ollivander. He thrust his wand out rather rudely, and then stood scowling, his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I… however…"

He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes. "Yes… hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot at Krum, who nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees… quite rigid… ten and a quarter inches… Avis!"

The hornbeam wand let off a blast hike a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight. "Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. "Which leaves… Miss Potter."

Tempest walked over, fairly confident her wand was fine, but then again it had been through a lot… After all, everything did seem to happen to her.

Shoving her hair roughly out of her eyes, Tempest gave her wand to Ollivander.

"Aaaah, yes," Ollivander said, his pale eyes gleaming suddenly. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember."

Tempest swallowed, hoping Ollivander wouldn't say anything aloud and let Skeeter hear… giving her more to write about in the article that she undoubtedly would. Four summers ago, on her eleventh birthday, she had entered Ollivander's wand shop with Minnie to buy her a wand. She had held wand after wand after wand after wand and destroyed most of Ollivanders shop before she had finally found the wand that she was holding now…

"Holly and Phoenix tail-feather…" Mused Ollivander, rolling Tempest's wand between his fingers. "Only one other wand…"

Tempest's jaw clenched. She knew what the end of the unfinished sentence was. According to Ollivander, the Phoenix that gave the tail-feather in her wand, had given another feather. The other feather which was used in the wand that had given Tempest the scar that stretched down across the right side of her face,

"Excellent for elementals yes?" continued Ollivander, looking up at Tempest, who gave a quick nod.

Ollivander spent much longer examining Tempest's wand than anyone else's, so long in fact, that Tempest was starting to worry. Eventually, however, he made a burst of flame from the tip, and then handed it back to Tempest, declaring it was still in perfect condition.

"Thank you all," said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table. "You may go back to your lessons now - or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end-"

Tempest brightened slightly at that. She could go see Hermione in the Hospital wing… see how she was doing.

Turning to go, Tempest was stopped by the man with the black camera, who cleared his throat.

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" cried Bagman excitedly. "All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?"

"Er - yes, let's do those first," said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Tempest again. "And then perhaps some individual shots."

Tempest opened her mouth to protest, but then was shoved down in a chair, and was not given a chance to continue.

The photographs took a long time. Madame Maxime cast everyone else into shadow wherever she stood, and the photographer couldn't stand far enough back to get her into the frame; eventually she had to sit while everyone else stood around her. Karkaroff kept twirling his goatee around his finger to give it an extra curl; Krum, whom Tempest would have thought would have been used to this sort of thing, skulked, half-hidden, at the back of the group. The photographer seemed keenest to get Fleur and Tempest at the front, something Tempest was both disgusted and annoyed at.

Disgusted, because the man was clearly looking for the _girls _to be in prominence, and also annoyed, because Tempest disliked the idea of being in the Prophet, even as a photo.

Tempest and newspapers… they didn't mix.

Then, after the group photo, Skeeter insisted on separate shots of all the champions. At last, they were free to go. Tempest went down to dinner. Hermione wasn't there – and while Tempest wanted to go see how she was holding up, her stomach ordered her to eat, and so she did.

Tempest sat down beside Ginny and Neville, grabbing some chicken from the plates.

She quickly explained what had happened, and while the two of them looked slightly unnerved that Fleur was being so nice, they worried about Skeeter.

"That woman's a cow!" burst out Ginny finally. "It's like Diggory says- she's printed thousands of articles about my dad too! Don't let her interview you Tempest, she'll twist your words around until they turn into snakes."

Neville hid a smile at Ginny's conviction, but Tempest agreed. "Don't worry, I won't."

They walked up to the Gryffindor Common room after dinner, in the hopes of finding Hermione there, but instead ran into Ron.

"Hello." Tempest said with an air of frigid calm.

Ron merely stood there, jaw clenched. Eventually he spoke. "You've had an owl."

Tempest glanced at Athena, who was perched on the sofa. "As far as I know, my eyesight is just as able as ever." She said.

"And you've got to do our detentions tomorrow night. Snape's dungeon." Ron continued as if Tempest had never spoken, then turned and walked up to the boys dormitories.

Tempest threw a parting look over at Ron's back, then walked over to Athena, and untied the letter, quickly scanning it.

_Tempest._

_When will you ever figure out maybe I _like_ danger? I'm back in the country, and don't go preaching at me, because you know perfectly well that if we had switched places you would have hightailed it back even faster than me. –and don't deny that, because you know you can't lie._

_We need to talk though. There are too many things I can't say in a letter, but if you ensure that you are alone by the fire in Gryffindor Tower at one o'clock in the morning on the 22nd of November then let me know, because I'll be waiting. _

_Sirius._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: Skeeter.

The following evening, Tempest trudged down to the dungeons with a stoic Ron, which suited her fine, seeing as she wasn't too happy with him either. The two reached the dungeons in silence, both refusing to even acknowledge the fact that the other existed, and they waited outside the door to Snape's dungeon while the tension mounted.

When Snape swept around the corner- looking as usual like an overgrown bat- Tempest could quite honestly (if disbelievingly) say that she had never been so glad to see the potions master. But then, when she thought about it, that wasn't saying much.

Once both Tempest and Ron were inside- both refusing to meet each other's eyes- Snape told them to clean out the insides of the insides of the cauldrons from a disastrous first year potions class. Without magic.

Of all of the detentions Tempest had ever had- (and that was no small number), it was the absolute worst.

On the bright side, Snape wasn't one to mince words, and his curt instructions meant that Tempest could get started right away and not have to consciously try to avoid Ron's gaze.

On the not-so-bright side, it also meant that it was utterly silent in the dungeons, and every tiny sound was magnified by about a thousand, echoing around the stone walls. It wasn't even like the comfortable silences which her Ron and Hermione shared down by the black lake, sitting under a willow tree, it was a silence that seemed to hang over Tempest like a stifling blanket.

And that wasn't even all. Of all things to clean out- cauldrons were the hardest. The damn things were too bulky for Tempest to wrap her arms around to hold still while she scrubbed the inside, and were too round for her to turn sideways on a desk (they kept on rolling everywhere) and also whatever the first years had been making, it seemed to be have been designed specifically to stick to the insides of the cauldron with admirable determination.

Tempest sighed impatiently after a few minutes of pointless scrubbing and grab the cauldron she was currently cleaning, sat down on the stone floor of the dungeon, abandoned the brush she was holding, shoved up her sleeves, and went in elbow deep with a clump of steel wool, clamping the cauldron in place with her knees, and began scrubbing as though the cauldron had offended her personally. Amazingly enough, it worked.

Tempest was on her third cauldron while Ron was still struggling on his first and even though she was very pointedly trying to ignore the existence of Ron, she could not hold back a tiny smile.

As Tempest finished her fourth cauldron, placing it neatly back in the storage cupboard, she felt eyes on her, and turned to see Snape staring at her with an uncomfortable intensity, his black eyes drilling straight into her own clear green.

Somewhat defiantly, Tempest stared back.

Snape sneered at her, and Tempest rolled her eyes as she began on her fifth cauldron.

The silence in the dungeons was horrible, the only sound was the scratching of Snape's quill, the rough grating sound of the steel wool against the side of the bronze cauldron, and the bristles of Ron's useless brush on his cauldron.

Tempest's head snapped up as there was a sudden bang, and she saw Ron throw himself down on the dungeon floor, and imitating Tempest, begin scrubbing at the inside of the cauldron the same way Tempest was.

Ron looked up at the exact same moment, and for a second, they merely stared at each other.

And then Ron gave a tentative smile, and Tempest felt an answering grin spreading across her face.

Pride abandoned her, and Tempest almost threw the cauldron she was cleaning aside, and flung herself over three desks to hug Ron.

She slammed into him, his cauldron rolling away, as he automatically caught her and Tempest felt so _relieved_, she had forgotten just how much she missed Ron, and even though it had only been three days, it felt like an eternity without her best friend.

Yes she had Hermione, and the two were almost joined at the hip, but Tempest also needed someone more carefree, who didn't stress over when the next homework assignment was due in, or whether or not she had memorized the correct definition and Latin translation of each spell they learnt, and who she could laugh along with at Fred and George's pranks, instead of sniff disapprovingly.

"Tempest I'm so sorry I was such a prat- I mean, I _know_ you, and it's not your fault-"

"-and you're the one apologizing? I mean, you were a prat, but it's alright-"

"But I _was_ a prat, I just abandoned you and didn't do a thing when Malfoy was insulting you-"

"-you'd just have gotten into even more trouble, and besides, I'm though, I could take it-"

"-yes but still… I know you hate all the people who stare at you, only I just got jealous, and well, I was stupid-"

"It doesn't' matter, I mean, yes you were a prat, but I was a git, and besides, forgive and forget and all that crap-"

"-but I should have been your friend three days ago! I mean, you were probably stressing out, you could die…"

Snape's cold voice cut through Ron's apology, sneering and dripping with sarcasm. "If you two are quite done crying over each other's shoulders, I would remind you that you still have eleven cauldrons to clean, and I would rather not be here past midnight listening to you two sob."

Tempest bristled, but her and Ron were talking again, and the detention would probably be over in around an hour, so it wasn't worth getting her hackles up... Tempest retrieved her cauldron and sat down next to Ron, concentrating on the cauldron.

Tempest grinned into the disgusting depths of the cauldron, feeling decidedly happier than she had been when she walked into the dungeon. That was until her hand slipped again, and she slammed her funny bone into the side of the cauldron.

~Y.-.Y~

On the way back to the common room, (after checking to make sure that no one was around to hear her,)Tempest told Ron about Sirius wanting to talk, and Ron suggested that Sirius would probably firecall through the floo network.

Hermione was ecstatic that Tempest and Ron were friends again, and was incoherent with giddiness for the following few minutes after the two walked into the Gryffindor common room chatting together like they had never argued in the first place.

Ginny was less impressed, only glancing up and commenting- "About time you two got your act together." But Hagrid could have burst through the Fat Lady portrait that very moment with his arms full of Blast Ended Skrewts, and it still would not have been enough to ruin Tempest's mood.

Not even the events of the following day, when Tempest walked into the Great Hall and was instantly hit with the sound of the jeering Slytherins and was confronted with the day's edition of the Daily Prophet.

The article and photos on the Triwizard Champions had been published in the Daily Prophet, but it wasn't so much of an article about the tournament than a highly detailed biography about the one and only Chosen One- Tempestas Potter.

Rita Skeeter had covered the front page of the Daily Prophet, and most of the rest of the newspaper, with blown up images of Tempest who was glaring at the camera behind a curtain of hair.

Skeeter had written practically nothing on the Tournament itself, and the other champion's names (which were misspelled) were crammed onto the very last line of the article, whereas Cedric hadn't been mentioned at all.

Tempest couldn't really have cared less. She had had her share of rumours about her in the past, and by experience, knew that the best thing that she could possibly do, was ignore it. Before, the worst thing that had happened was that she has lost Ron's friendship. Now… the newspaper article just seemed pathetic.

It was ten days later, and while Tempest continued to ignore the attempts to rile her, it was rather annoying listening to the Slytherins constantly quoting phases from the article at her in hallways and in class… words that she had supposedly said in an interview, yet words that Tempest couldn't remember ever saying in her life, much less to Skeeter…

_ I am so proud to be in the Tournament, it's a chance to really prove myself…_

_If my parents were here right now, I know they'd be proud of me. I'm pretty sure I get my strength from them…_

_I do still cry about them at night, I'm not ashamed to admit it…_

And then- even more irritating, was Skeeter weaving a supposed 'love life' for her… something that Tempest didn't even want to think about, much less have as front-page news in the Daily Prophet.

_Tempest has even found love at Hogwarts. Her close friend Colin Creevy, says that Tempest is rarely seen out of the company of one Ronald Weasley, a handsome pureblood, who, like Tempest, is one of the most popular and intelligent students in the school. Meanwhile, Neville Longbottom, another fourth year says that…_

Tempest scowled and skirted around a group of Slytherin fourth-year girls as they passed by, but to her intense annoyance, they spotted her, and instantly began insulting Ron and Hermione, who she was walking with.

It seemed that once the Slytherins had realized their insults towards her had no effect, they had begun targeting Tempest's friends. Insults to herself, Tempest could handle. Insults to herself, Tempest even laughed at sometimes. But insults to her friends...

Tempest's hand automatically clenched around her wand, which was stuffed up her sleeve as Pansy Parkinson- a despicable girl that Tempest had instantly decided to loathe since second year when they first met- began throwing insults at Ron and Hermione.

"Since when were you intelligent Weasley? I would think snails have bigger brains than you…"

"Still hanging around with blood traitors and filth, are we Potter?"

"Popular? Dirt is more popular than you Weasley?"

"Oh, Granger… still tailing around Scarhead like a dog?"

"_Weasley_? You could have done a lot better than him Potter! But then maybe your standards are just lax…"

After years of insults from the Dursleys, it was rare that Tempest was insulted by merely words- she was sensible enough to not have another outburst of rage at the Slytherins over her own pride, but their insulting _Ron-_ who was now sticking by Tempest like glue, trying to make up for the days when he had been against her just as much as the school…. And Hermione, who was loyal to a fault, and had never abandoned Tempest in the first place…

"Oi! Pansy! Point one- Ron's brains are a sight bigger than yours Parkinson, and unless you want snails coming out of _your_ mouth, I suggest you shut it! Point two- Dirt is preferable than to be known by you Pansy, and Point three- anyone who Ron will settle for would be a lucky person, not that I could say the same to you, even if anyone considered you!"

Then she grabbed Ron and Hermione's arms and dragged them forcefully down the corridor before the hexes could start flying.

Hermione too had her fair share of Rita's attention, and the Slytherins were taking the care to make her life just as miserable as Tempests. In a piece where Skeeter had called her a pretty muggleborn- Pansy nearly had a fit, yelling that the only way Hermione could be considered pretty would be if she was compared to a chipmunk, and even then the chipmunk would win.

Tempest had hexed Pansy so violently, earning with twenty points taken off Gryffindor, but Tempest was pleased that Pansy didn't leave the hospital for a week afterward.

It was a testament to all three of their self-control that all of them managed to not snap in the following days. They stuck together like glue, rarely only talking to Fred, George and Ginny. The article had driven the Ravenclaws even further away from Tempest, and now even relations with the Hufflepuffs was strained as they were furious that Cedric hadn't been recognized at all in the Prophet.

On a completely different note, Tempest still hadn't mastered Summoning Charms, something that frustrated her to no-end. Flitwick had said before that Tempest had obviously inherited her mother's knack for charms, (something she really doubted right now) especially elementals, which seemed to be Tempest's signature spells, but she seemed to have developed a block for the Summoning charm, and it, along with everything else grated on her nerves. Hermione insisted that learning the theory would help, and so with less than good grace, Tempest had been spending more and more time in the library at lunchtime, which made Tempest rather sick of the books, something Ron refused to believe, calling Tempest just as swotty as Hermione.

Viktor Krum was in the library a lot too, something Tempest noticed as wherever Krum went, consequently dozens of his fan girls would follow, something that annoyed Hermione and Tempest to no end in the library.

They didn't mind Krum so much, if only Ron would stop obsessing about him, and Krum didn't really do anything to disturb them, just skulking behind the shelves and glowering at them occasionally, but Hermione was incensed at the noise that the giggling fan girls made.

"What do they see in him? Does he have a personality at all?" Hermione muttered angrily one afternoon after threatening to hex the girls if they didn't shut up, "They only like him because he's famous! I bet they don't even know him, or when his birthday is! They wouldn't look twice at him if he couldn't do that Wonky-Faint thing…"

Tempest, wanting to laugh, but not letting the insult to Quiddtich pass, muttered, "Wronski-Feint," while Ron fell out of his chair howling with laughter as Madam Pince rounded the shelf opposite them and ordered them to be silent, or leave.

On the Saturday before the first task, Tempest felt woefully unprepared, but Hermione convinced her to come with them to Hogsmeade, to relax.

"Sure. Relax. I'm relaxed." Tempest snorted as they walked down to the village together with Ron, Ginny and the twins.

Tempest was hidden under the invisibility cloak, a precaution so that in case they ran into Skeeter… Well, it was best for everyone if she remained hidden.

It was odd, Tempest considered. Fred and George had been hanging around the 'Golden Trio' a lot more now, and seemed to have appointed themselves Tempest's official escort/protectors, and threatened anyone who even looked at the Trio differently. It also meant they spent a lot of time with them in the Library, a place that the twins usually avoided like the plague.

The six of them walked down to Hogsmeade, and Tempest relished in the freedom. It was so reliving to not have the same few damned lines repeated to her over and over again- and although the Slytherins still did throw pointed remarks at the rest of the (visible) group, there nothing as bad as they did to Tempest.

Some of them sported Support Cedric Diggory badges, but none of them turned to her and flashed- Potter Stinks at her either.

As they stepped out of Honeydukes, Tempest quickly stowing a large bag of sweets in the pocket of her muggle clothes and rearranging the invisibility cloak, courtesy of George, who insisted on buying Tempest what seemed like half the store seeing as Tempest couldn't herself, they passed Rita Skeeter, who to her relief, walked straight by them without a second glance.

"She's staying in the village. I bet she's coming to watch the first task to write more horrible things about you Tempest." Ron said, glaring at the woman's departing back.

Tempest grimaced at Skeeter's back, then had to turn away before she sent a curse at Skeeter's undefended back.

"She's gone." Fred finally said, his hand twitching to his wand in his pocket, like he was thinking the exact same thing as Tempest.

Tempest grinned, and then whispered so that only the other five could hear, "Let's go to the three Broomsticks. It's a bit cold now."

They agreed and trudged over to the bar, pushing open the door and relishing the blast of warm air that enveloped them.

As they walked in, the other five hustled around Tempest, to make sure that no one would accidently walk into her, or pull the cloak off. After all, it was very hard to move through crowds in the Invisibility Cloak.

They found an empty table, which was a miracle in itself, as most tables were full, filled with Hogwarts students enjoying Butterbeers in safety from the biting wind outside.

As Ginny slipped off to buy some, Tempest let her gaze wander over students, villagers Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students alike. To her intense relief, while the other school visitors hadn't been exactly friendly to Tempest, neither were they hostile and unlike half of the Hogwarts students, they did not shoot Tempest evil looks when they saw her, which led Tempest to believe that Fleur and Krum had told their schoolmates the truth. Tempest could understand partly why Fleur would stand up for her, they were almost friends after all, but she did not understand why Krum would have. He didn't seem like the type to go to extra lengths for his competition.

In any case…

As Fred and George chatted about a prank they were going to pull the next day, Ron was arguing with Hermione about S.P.E.W, and Ginny had just come back with six Butterbeers.

Tempest muttered a quick 'thank you' as Ginny pushed a steaming mug to her under the cloak, and sipped at it as she kept staring out over the other tables.

Everyone looked happy, and was chatting to whoever they were there with, laughing, their cheeks pink with the warmth of the room, contrasting with the cold outside.

Tempest, with a sudden rush of nostalgia, wondered what she would give just to be one of them, with nothing to worry about but homework, thinking ahead with only exited anticipation of what the champions would have to face in the first task, no panic or horror, perhaps even cheering on Cedric- the proper Hogwarts's champion safe in a seat at the stands…

Tempest thought about what the other champions would be feeling. She hadn't spoken to any of them in days, when she saw Cedric in corridors in-between classes, he had always been surrounded by admirers, looking nervous but excited. Fleur seemed at ease, sometimes smiling and laughing with her friends from Beauxbatons, but most of the time haughty and unruffled. Krum… well he merely sat in the library, and from what little Tempest could tell, he didn't look very concerned, only pouring over books with almost as much attention as Hermione did with her own…

"You know, maybe I should try and get some of the villagers involved in S.P.E.W," Hermione commented.

Ron snorted. "Yeah right. Hermione, when are you going to give up this spew stuff?"

Hermione glared at Ron as he took a swig of Butterbeer. "It's S.P.E.W Ronald, and I will stop when house-elves have decent wages and working conditions! You know, I'm starting to think it's time for more direct action. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens?"

Ron held up his hands. "No idea, ask Fred and George."

Hermione turned to the twins questioningly, and they very pointedly started becoming very interested in their Butterbeers. "We're not telling you 'mione, you'll have them all quitting and then who's going to be making all the delicious feasts?"

Hermione glared at them with enough venom to defeat a basilisk. "Trust boys to-"

"It's straight under the Great Hall, down the staircase leading to the Hufflepuff Basement, and then you'll come across a painting of a bowl of giant fruit. You reach out and tickle the pear, and it'll turn into a giant doorknob, you turn it- and there you go!"

Fred and George gapped at their sister, while Ginny took a sip of her Butterbeer serenely.

"How'd you know that?" asked George.

Ginny smirked. "You think that when you sneak out at night no-one follows you? I learn dear brothers, I learn."

Tempest silently applauded Ginny, while the twins and Ron merely gapped at her. Hermione shot a beaming smile at Ginny, before carefully writing down the directions. "Thank you Ginny."

After a moment, the five began talking about Professor Sprout's next assignment, something to do with a hybrid plant and something about Snarglepuffs, something Tempest had never heard of before.

As Tempest thought of Sirius, she felt a rush of euphoria. In just over twelve hours, she would be able to talk to Sirius and they would be able to talk… 'face to face'… Merlin she had missed him… which was rather foolish, seeing as she had only really known him for a year- seven eights of which she had spent thinking he was a murderer and had a hand in the death of her parents...

"It's Hagrid!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, and Tempest's head jerked up only to see the back of Hagrid's enormous shaggy head over the crowd. Tempest wondered why she hadn't seen him before, but then she realized he was bending over to talk to Professor Moody, who was seated at a table with him. Hagrid was draining his usual huge mug, while Moody was taking swigs from his hip flask. Madam Rosemerta who was collecting empty glasses from around them, looked insulted as though Moody was making a personal insult to her mead, but Tempest knew better.

A rather foolish question from Lavender Brown in class had led to Tempest discovering that Moody preferred to prepare all of his own food and drink at all times, as it was so easy for Dark wizards to poison an unattended cup.

As Tempest watched, she saw the two stand up to leave, and forgetting that they couldn't see her, she waved.

To her amazement though, Moody turned back, as though he could see her, and tapped Hagrid's back- unable to reach his shoulder- and the pair of them turned back and walked over to their table.

"All 'igh Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny?" Then in an undertone he added, "Tempest."

"Hello," five chorused, Tempest remaining silent, although she did give Hagrid a smile that he couldn't see.

Moody limped around the table and bent over Hermione's notebook like he was examining the S.P.E.W page, then he muttered from the corner of his mouth, "Nice cloak, Miss Potter."

Tempest stared at him in dumbly, and while his normal eye was fixed on the notebook, his other eye was fixed on her. "Uh… so, that eye of yours… can it see-"

Moody grinned, scars shifting horrifically. "Yeah, it can see through invisibility cloaks. Yours is a mighty fine one. And it's come in useful at times, I can tell you."

Hagrid was beaming at her, and although Tempest knew he couldn't see her, Moody must have told him she was sitting in the apparently empty chair. He too bent over Hermione's notebook, then whispered to Tempest's chest (Tempest assumed that Hagrid thought he was talking to her ear- because at the moment, she really was quite uncomfortable,) "Tempest, meet me tonight at midnight at me cabin wit' that cloak."

Then straightening up, Hagrid said loudly, "Nice ter see yeh, yeh five." Winked, and left with Moody following.

"What does he want to meet me for at midnight tonight?" Tempest said, while the five turned to her in surprise.

"Does he?" George asked. "Well, we can sneak you down easy, we'll create a distraction, and you can slip by under your cloak…"

Tempest frowned. She appreciated it, but it was cutting her time with Sirius quite fine, and she might miss him… And if she had to choose between the two, she would choose Sirius. After all, she saw Hagrid every day. But she couldn't explain that to the twins, they didn't know about Sirius.

So, very quickly, almost breathing the words, Tempest sketched over Sirius's innocence, and their arranged meeting.

When she was done, and the twins had officially gotten over their astonishment, they managed to speak. "Well, meeting Hagrid does seem important, I mean he's never asked you to meet him that late before has he?" Seeing Tempest's nod, Fred continued. "Well then it means that it's serious. Maybe Ron and Hermione can be by the fire while you're gone, just to make sure that no one notices Sirius if he's there early, and if he wants to leave a message they can take it."

Tempest nodded slowly. Even though she would much rather see Sirius herself if she had the chance, she did admit that it was odd that Hagrid wanted her over so late.

At half past eleven that evening, Fred and George set off a few dungbombs in the common room, and as everyone fled out through the Fat Lady, Tempest followed under the cloak unnoticed.

The grounds were very dark as Tempest walked down the lawn and towards the lights shining in Hagrid's cabin under the invisibility cloak, and she could see the glowing lights from the enormous Beauxbatons carriage and hear the booming voice of Madame Maxime inside as Tempest knocked on Hagrid's front door.

"Tempest? You there?" asked Hagrid, glancing straight through Tempest as he opened the door a crack.

"Yeah!" Tempest slid by Hagrid and pulled off the cloak. "What did you want to see me for?"

"Got summat ter show yeh," Hagrid said,

He seemed oddly excited and Tempest noticed with no small amount of horror, that he was wearing a flower that resembled an oversized artichoke in his buttonhole, and he had tried to comb his hair. (Tempest could see the broken teeth of a comb tangled in it)

"What do you want to show me?" Tempest asked warily, wondering whether or not Hagrid had bought another three-headed dog, come across another dragon's egg, or if the number of Blast Ended Skrewts had doubled overnight.

None of those possibilities sat very well with Tempest.

"Come with me, keep quiet, an' keep yerself covered with that cloak, we won' take Fang, he won' like it…" Hagrid trailed off.

"Listen Hagrid, I can't be here for long, I need to go and get back to the castle at one…."

But Hagrid who usually always listened, wasn't. He was already opening the cabin door and walking off into the night. Tempest- quickly ducking back under her cloak, followed, and was confused that Hagrid was walking towards the Beauxbatons carriage.

"Hagrid, if this isn't important then-"

"Shhh!" Hagrid said, and he knocked on the door.

Madame Maxime opened it. She was wearing a silk shawl wrapped around her massive shoulders. She smiled when she saw Hagrid. "Ah, 'Agrid… it is time?"

Hagrid seemed speechless, beaming at her, but he held out a hand to help her down the golden steps. Madame Maxime closed the door behind her, Hagrid offered her his arm, and they set off around the edge of the paddock containing Madame Maxime's giant winged horses.

Tempest, completely bewildered like she had been hit with a _Confundus_ had to run to keep up. Had Hagrid wanted to show her Madame Maxime? She could see her any old time she wanted...she wasn't exactly hard to miss… But it seemed that Madame Maxime was in for the same treat as Tempest, because after a while she said playfully, "Wair is it you are taking me, 'Agrid?"

"Yeh'll enjoy this," said Hagrid gruffly, "worth seein', trust me. On'y - don' go tellin' anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh're not s'posed ter know."

"Of course not," said Madame Maxime, fluttering her long black eyelashes.

Tempest rolled her eyes. Even though she rather liked Fleur and Madame Maxime, she was positive that it was an empty promise.

And still they walked, Tempest getting more and more irritated as she jogged along in their wake, glancing down at the watch Ron had given her last year. Hagrid had some hare-brained scheme in hand, which might make her miss Sirius. If she didn't get there soon, she was going to turn around, go straight back to the castle, and leave Hagrid to enjoy his moonlit stroll with Madame Maxime.

But suddenly after they had walked so far Tempest was almost sure she was lost- Tempest heard something. There were people shouting up ahead, and there was a deafening ear splitting roar…

Hagrid and Madame Maxime walked around a clump of trees and then stopped, making Tempest almost run into Hagrid's broad back.

The sudden light of the clearing blinded Tempest for a moment, and then her eyes focused, and she gapped at the sight.

_Well… shit…._

Dragons. Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons were rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting - torrents of fire were shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There was a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which was writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which was shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and a gigantic black one, more lizard like than the others, which was nearest to Tempest.

At least thirty wizards, seven or eight to each dragon, were attempting to control them, pulling on the chains connected to heavy leather straps around their necks and legs. Mesmerised, Tempest looked up, high above them, and saw the eyes of the black dragon, with vertical pupils like a cat's, bulging with either fear or rage, they couldn't tell which…It was making a horrible noise, a yowling, screeching scream.

"Keep back there, Hagrid!" yelled a wizard near the fence, who sounded oddly familiar, straining on the chain he was holding. "They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I've seen this Horntail do forty!"

"Is'n' it beautiful?" said Hagrid softly.

"It's no good!" another wizard yelled, pulling out his wand. "Stunning spells, on the count of three!"

Tempest saw all of the other wizards pull out wands just as the chains holding the Horntail snapped.

The Horntail lunged forward towards the closest wizard just as all of the keepers yelled "Stupefy!"

The Stunning Spells shot into the darkness like fiery rockets, bursting in showers of stars on the dragons' scaly hides - Tempest watched the dragon nearest to her teeter dangerously on its back legs; its jaws stretched wide in a silent howl; its nostrils were suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking - then, very slowly, it fell. Several tons of sinewy, scaly black dragon hit the ground with a thud that made Tempest almost loose her balance on the level ground.

The dragon keepers lowered their wands and walked forward to their fallen charges, each of which was the size of a small hill. They hurried to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs, which they forced deep into the ground with their wands.

"Wan' a closer look?" Hagrid asked Madame Maxime excitedly. The pair of them moved right up to the fence, and Tempest, rather reluctantly- followed. The wizard who had warned Hagrid not to come any closer turned, and Tempest realised who it was: Charlie Weasley.

"All right, Hagrid?" he panted, coming over to talk. "They should be okay now - we put them out with a Sleeping Draught on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet - but, like you saw, they weren't happy, not happy at all -"

"What breeds you got here, Charlie?" said Hagrid, gazing at the closest dragon, the black one, with something chose to reverence. Its eyes were still just open. Tempest could see a strip of gleaming yellow beneath its wrinkled black eyelid, and against her will (after all, it could kill her, and as things turned out- it probably would) Tempest felt rather sorry for it.

"This is a Hungarian Horntail," said Charlie. "There's a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one — a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-grey — and a Chinese Fireball, that's the red." Charlie looked around; Madame Maxime was strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons.

"I didn't know you were bringing her, Hagrid," Charlie said, frowning. "The champions aren't supposed to know what's coming - she's bound to tell her student, isn't she?"

"Jus' thought she'd like ter see 'em," shrugged Hagrid, still gazing, enraptured, at the dragons.

"Really romantic date, Hagrid," said Charlie, shaking his head.

Tempest snorted quietly and agreed.

"Four…" said Hagrid, "so it's one fer each o' the champions, is it? What've they gotta do - fight 'em?" Tempest barely restrained a protest- _fight_ one of those things? And then another part of her realized that Hagrid was asking for her benefit.

"Just get past them, I think," said Charlie. "We'll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don't know why… but I tell you this, I don't envy the one who gets the Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end's as dangerous as its front, look."

Charlie pointed toward the Horntail's tail, and Tempest saw long, bronze-coloured spikes protruding along it every few inches.

Tempest's overactive imagination showed her graphic images of herself being impaled on those spikes, and she shuddered.

Five of Charlie's fellow keepers staggered forwards to the collapsed Horntail then, carrying a blanket with around a dozen huge dragon eggs in it. They placed them carefully by the Horntail's side (and with a sudden shock, Tempest realized that the dragon must be a female) while Hagrid let out a moan of longing, which Tempest grinned at.

"I've got them counted, Hagrid," said Charlie sternly. Then he said, "How's Tempest?"

"Fine," said Hagrid still staring at the eggs, and Tempest felt a rush of affection to Ron's brother.

"Just hope Tempest's still fine after she's faced this lot," said Charlie darkly, looking at the dragon's enclosure. "I didn't dare tell mum what she's got to do for the first task, she's already having kittens about her…"

Tempest gave a small smile. Minnie was practically a mother to her (outside of school) but so was Mrs Weasley, and they were both as close as Tempest was likely to get to her actual mother, thought Tempest rather bitterly.

Charlie imitated his mother's anxious voice. "How could they let Tempest enter that tournament, she's much too young! And even if she was old enough… I thought they were all safe! I thought there was going to be an age limit! Why didn't Dumbledore do anything? She was in floods after that Daily Prophet article about her. I mean, I know it was just a pack of lies, but she didn't. 'She still cries about her parents! She wants to make them proud! Oh bless her, I never knew!' and then, 'She's with Ron? Oh, imagine having her in the family…'"

Tempest was mortified, and also slightly disgusted. She was flattered that Mrs Weasley would want her in the family, but the idea her being with Ron was just… repellent. Their relationship was strictly platonic, and sometimes Tempest wondered whether or not Ron even realized her and Hermione were girls. And besides… Tempest knew somehow that Hermione wouldn't take it too lightly if she was with Ron.

Trusting to the fact that with the combined distraction of Madame Maxime and the four dragons Hagrid wouldn't miss her, Tempest turned and began to walk away back to the castle.

Tempest wasn't sure whether or not she had seen what was coming. Maybe it was better this way- the first shock was over now, and maybe if on Tuesday she had seen the dragons for the first time in the arena (or wherever the first task was going to be held) she would have passed out cold. Now she had gotten over it…. And what? She was going to be armed with her wand - which, just now, felt like nothing more than a narrow strip of wood — against a fifty-foot-high, scaly, spike-ridden, fire-breathing dragon. And she had to get past it. With everyone watching. How? Tempest had just been planning on doing one of the things she did best- improvise, but now that didn't seem like the best idea at the moment.

Tempest sped up, skirting the edge of the forest; she had just under fifteen minutes to get back to the fireside and talk to Sirius, and Tempest couldn't remember _ever_, wanting to talk to someone more than she did right now — when, without warning, she ran into something very solid.

Tempest fell backwards, clutching the cloak to her, making sure she remained invisible, and thanking Merlin that she did not wear glasses like her father did.

"Ouch! Who's there?" a rather unwelcome voice said.

Tempest hastily checked that the cloak was covering her and lay very still, staring up at the dark outline of the wizard they had hit. She recognized the goatee…it was Karkaroff.

"Who's there?" said Karkaroff again, very suspiciously, looking around in the darkness. Tempest remained still and silent. After a minute or so, Karkaroff seemed to decide that he had hit some sort of animal; he was looking around at waist height, as though expecting to see a dog. Then he crept back under the cover of the trees and started to edge forward toward the place where the dragons were.

Very slowly and very carefully, Tempest got to her feet, and set off again as fast as she could without making too much noise, hurrying through the darkness back toward Hogwarts.

She had no doubt whatsoever what Karkaroff was up to. He had sneaked off his ship to try and find out what the first task was going to be. He might even have spotted Hagrid and Madame Maxime heading off around the forest together – they were hardly difficult to spot at a distance… and now all Karkaroff had to do was follow the sound of voices, and he, like Madame Maxime, would know what was in store for the champions. By the looks of it, the only champion who would be facing the unknown on Tuesday was Cedric.

Tempest slipped in through the front doors, and began to climb the marble stairs; she was out of breath and her chest was hurting, but she only had five minutes left, and she needed to hurry….

"Balderdash!" Tempest gasped at the Fat Lady, who was half asleep in her frame.

"If you say so," she muttered, and the portrait swung forward without her even opening her eyes.

Tempest climbed inside and pulled off the cloak.

Hermione and Ron were sitting by the fire, Ron asleep and drooling slightly, Hermione looking only slightly better and reading a book that was several inches thick.

"Hi Hermione," panted Tempest, "Has Sirius-?"

Hermione was shaking her head. "Not yet. What about you Tempest? What did Hagrid want?"

Tempest opened her mouth to reply, but the words stuck in her throat as she tried to explain, and then her eyes fell on the flames, and she jumped as she saw Sirius's face staring back at her.

"Sirius!" Tempest was only barely aware of Hermione saying something about giving them a bit of privacy and getting Ron to bed, she was too busy grinning at Sirius.

"Padfoot!" Tempest greeted, letting out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

Sirius looked much different from the last time Tempest had seen him. When they had said goodbye last year, Sirius's face had been gaunt and sunken, surrounded by a large quantity of long black, matted hair, but the hair was shorter and clean now, Sirius's face was fuller, and he looked much younger and handsome, resembling the man in the photograph Tempest had of him at her parent's wedding.

"Tempest," Sirius replied, a rather lopsided smile tugging at his lips.

"Hi." Tempest said, rather stupidly. "Guess what? I'm screwed."

"Yeah, I've heard," Sirius said tiredly. "Triwizard Tournament, huh?"

"Not just that," Tempest said, rubbing the back of her head. "The first task, it's dragons."

Sirius stared at her incredulously, his eyes fixed on hers, eyes that had not lost the look that Azkaban had given them- that deadened, haunted look which cut straight through Tempest. Tempest could recognize it, she had seen it for years after the Dursley's every time she looked in a mirror. The look of eyes that had seen things that no-one should ever have to.

After a moment, he took a breath and said; "Dragons we can deal with Tempest, but we'll get to that- I haven't got long, I broke into a Wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back any time. I need to warn you."

"Warn me of?" asked Tempest, wondering what could be worse than battling a dragon.

"Karkaroff," said Sirius, "Tempest, he was a Death Eater, you know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

Tempest nodded numbly.

"He was caught, and was in Azkaban with me, but he was released. I'd bet almost everything I own –and that isn't much- that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year. To keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Karkaroff got released?" Tempest said slowly, trying to understand everything that had just happened in the past twenty-four hours. "Why… Why was he released?"

"He made a deal with the Ministry of Magic," Sirius said darkly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he gave up names- he put a load of other people into Azkaban… anything to keep himself out- and yes, the accused deserved it for what they did… But he's not very popular there as you can imagine, I heard them screaming his name some nights… In any case," Sirius continued, seeing the look on Tempest's face, "Since he got out, from what I've heard, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion and students too…"

"Okay…" Tempest said slowly. "So… Did he put my name in the Goblet of Fire? Because he looked like it was the last thing he wanted…"

"I know he's a good actor," said Sirius. "He convinced the Ministry to set him free didn't he? Tempest, just be careful, I've been keeping an eye on the Daily Prophet-"

Tempest laughed bitterly, rolling her eyes. "Ah? And how are you finding it?"

"-I know it's all lies Tempest, but reading between the lines of that Skeeter woman's article last month, Moody was attacked the night before he started at Hogwarts."

Tempest nodded. She remembered Skeeter writing that it was a false alarm, but she wasn't inclined to think that was the truth as it _was_ Skeeter writing after all.

"I don't think it was a false alarm either," Sirius continued, "I think someone tried to stop him from getting to Hogwarts. I think someone knew their job would be a lot more difficult with him around. I mean, no one's going to look into it too closely, Mad-Eye's cried wolf a bit too often, but that doesn't' mean he can't still spot the real thing. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry ever had."

"So Karkaroff's trying to kill me." Tempest stated rather matter-of-fact. So much was happening lately, it was hardly new news.

Sirius smiled wryly. "You're so much like your parents you know Tempest?"

Tempest just smiled sadly, she had heard it so many times, but it seemed different coming from Sirius. Like it actually meant something. "Thanks Sirius."

"I've been hearing strange things though. The Death Eaters- the free ones at least- they seem a bit more active than usual lately. They showed themselves publicly at the Quidditch World Cup, didn't they? Someone set off the Dark Mark… and then- did you hear about that Ministry witch who's gone missing?"

"Bertha something," Tempest answered.

"Jorkins. She disappeared in Albania, and that's where Voldemort was rumoured to be last. She would have known the Triwizard Tournament was coming up wouldn't she?"

"But… It's not exactly likely that she'd have walked straight into Voldemort right?"

"Look, I knew Bertha Jorkins," Sirius said grimly. "She was a few years above me in in Hogwarts, but I knew her. Very nosy, an idiot, and no brains. None at all. It's not a good combination Tempest, and she'd be very easy to lure into a trap."

"So… so Voldemort found out about the Tournament, sent someone to Hogwarts to put my name into the cup- tried to get rid of Moody… And all of this somehow boils down to me dying in the tournament." Tempest stated.

"I'm not sure though." Sirius shook his head in the fire, sparks crackling out. "I'm just not sure. If it's Karkaroff, and he seems the only likely candidate- he doesn't seem to me like they type to go back to Voldemort, unless he knew Voldemort was powerful enough to protect him from the Ministry. But whoever put your name in that goblet did it for a reason Tempest, and I can't help but think that the tournament would be a very good way to attack you and make it look like an accident."

Tempest laughed. "Well, it's a great plan. They just need to stand back and let the dragons do their thing."

"Right- these dragons," Sirius said, speeding up now, "There's a way to distract it Tempest. Don't use a Stunning Spell- they're too strong and powerfully magical to be knocked out, and if you miss it might make it even worse for you- you'd need around half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon-"

"Yeah, I saw-"

"But you can do it alone. There's a way, it's the Conjunctivitis Curse, it'll distract the dragon, but if you miss-"

"-then I'm dead."

Sirius shifted in the fire, almost like he wanted to step through the fire and grasp Tempest's shoulders. "Look Tempest, you are- without question, even more than your mother and father if I dare say it- the most powerful witch I have ever met, even out of your friend Hermione. Play to your strengths Tempest. I've heard you've got a fair few."

Tempest smiled sheepishly. "If I had that confidence… but thanks Sirius, so- the curse you say? I'll ask Hermione…"

Sirius suddenly jerked in the fire, turning his head as though he was looking behind him. "Tempest, I have to go now… I think the family is home- Just, Tempest, you'll do great, just keep an eye out, I'm proud of you-"

The flames flared, and then suddenly Sirius's face vanished.

"Sirius!" Tempest leaned forward, burning her hands in the fire, but he was gone.

Later that night, Tempest walked up to the girl's dormitories and undressed, lying down on her bed and settling Nyx on her chest, the furry warmth was comforting. "Hey Nyx." Tempest murmured. "You've got it easy haven't you? No dragons trying to eat you… No insane dark wizards going for your neck…"

Nyx replied by purring, and Tempest rolled over, pulling the blanket over her, and stuffing her invisibility cloak under her pillow.

"Yeah I thought so."

~Y.-.Y~

Severus Snape, the bat of the dungeons sat at his desk in his quarters in the castle marking some sixth year essays. Only one or two were passable, the rest wore than dragon dung.

With a final 'D' on the last, Severus set down the quill, and leaned back scowling, then poured himself a glass of brandy from a bottle on the desk.

He usually hated sprits, his memories of his late drunken father had assured that Severus stayed as far away from the drink as possible but right now…

Severus absentmindedly scratched at the faint outline of the Dark Mark on his left forearm. It was darkening, and he knew that soon the Dark Lord would return, and when that happened…

The man took another draught from the glass.

Then there was Tempestas Potter.

Severus could still remember the day that he had received the letter from Lily saying she was pregnant. It was the second time she had written to him in over five years. The first time had been a stiff formal letter saying that she was getting married. To James bloody Potter.

He had burned it the instant he reached the end, not even bothering to read the invitation. It was just adding insult to injury.

The second letter though, Severus couldn't bear to burn. She had named the girl- it was a girl the letter said- Tempestas, or Tempest for short. Lily had said it was a truce, that she wanted Sev back- her childhood best friend, and to let old grudges lie with James. It was a peace offering from Lily. A sign that she could forgive and forget, but obviously Severus hadn't been able to bury his pride to invite Lily back into his own life when she had offered with open arms.

_Tempestas_ was the very first spell that Sev had shown Lily. They had been ten and sitting by the lake near Lily's house, and it was snowing, chunks of ice floating in the water as the two stared out over the white fields.

"Show me some spells Sev!" Lily had said, and Sev had wondered about what spell to show her. He had learnt thousands of dark ones from the books his mother had stowed in the attic out of his father's reach, but somehow he doubted Lily would like them. She was just too _good…_ Too light…

So he used one of the charms he had learned, one he thought would impress her. She loved watching the snow fall after all…

"Tempestas!" Sev had said, gesturing with his hand. They didn't have wands yet, but wandless magic had always come easily to Sev.

The gust of wind had swept flurries in the snow, swirling it up and around in a vortex, like a winter wonderland.

Lily had laughed and flung her arms around Sev and kissing his cheek unexpectedly to his complete shock. "That was amazing Sev! You're my best friend no matter what, you know that?" she breathed in his ear, her clear green eyes sparkling and gleaming with enthusiasm. "Teach me!"

So he had taught her, and for days afterward she was constantly yelling "_Tempestas!_" at every opportunity, so much that Sev joked about the Ministry being called in for underage magic even though Lily wasn't even eleven yet, or received her letter.

It was a truce, the Potter girl was a truce, named after what Severus had always called the best day in his life, a symbol of Sev and Lily's friendship. Only it was ridiculous, because the child was James Potter's, and every single time Severus saw Lily's eyes staring out from Potter's face… How could the girl have anything to do with Severus? With the two best friends who sat by the lake during the holidays chattering about magic? Lily bouncing with enthusiasm and Sev smiling faintly, sometimes watching Lily from the corner of his eye, hoping someday that they would be… well… more.

After all, it was Lily Evans who had taught Sev how to love, and Sev who had never experienced love at all… What could he do _but_ fall in love with Lily?

Except Lily hadn't felt the same and fallen for James Potter, the arrogant toerag they had both used to hate- or still hated in Severus's opinion.

And so after a stupid mistake in fifth year, Sev had lost everything, buried himself in the Dark Arts, and then ended up on the other side of the line from Lily Evans, not even being able to return to the light to the only person he had ever- and would ever love, when she offered.

And now Lily Evans was gone, and all he had left of her was her and Potter's child, the insufferable brat who was her father through and through. Quidditch star, excellent at transfiguration, popular… famous…

And then as she grew older, the real torture began.

She was just so much like Lily, and as third year swept by, Severus could not help noticing that Tempest no longer resembled her father so much. She was just as ridiculously tall, along with her head of shaggy black hair that she insisted on wearing as a ragged mess, but her features began changing, shifting in a way.

Every time Severus looked at Tempest Potter, he could see Lily in her smile, the light in her eyes when she laughed… And then James Potter appeared in her face, and it was all Severus could do to not scream in frustration.

And then it was not only in looks. The girl was just as adept at transfiguration as her cursed father had been before her, but a stab of pain always shot through Severus as he remembered reports from Flitwick that Tempest was just as talented at charms as her mother had been, and her favourite spell was her namesake _Tempestas…_

And even worse in Potions, the girl was every bit as a painful reminder of Lily, instinctively knowing which ingredients went into which potion, never needing to glance at the instructions.. Being every bit of the brilliant Gryffindor girl that Severus had fallen in love with only a part of her that was untouchable because of James Potter, because of the Dark Lord, because of Albus Dumbledore, and because of his own stubborn pride.

Every time he glowered at her, every time he sneered down his nose at her, he saw Lily's eyes, and the heat and fight in her, and somehow Severus couldn't stop wondering if there had never been James Potter, if he had never called Lily the horrible word, if the girl who glared back defiantly with all of Lily's fire could have been his own.

After all, Lily had always saved Sev from himself so many times, she could have saved Sev from the Dark Arts, the Dark Lord… He would never have fallen into the dark and lost Lily Evans, and perhaps their friendship would have endured, and over time, maybe she would have fallen for him too… And Tempestas Lily Potter could have been _his_ daughter…

Severus slammed the empty glass back down on the desk, glaring at the stone wall opposite.

Curse himself. It was ridiculous. Lily Evans had always been too _good_ for the greasy Slytherin git after all. And after all, Severus would never want to curse anyone with his last name. _Tempest Snape_? No.

But the images still would not leave.

Ever since he was the shy boy who had told Lily who she was, Sev had dreamed out an entire lifetime with Lily Evans, being in the same house as Lily, laughing with her in class, cheering on in the stands at the Quidditch matches side by side, maybe becoming more… graduating together, finding a job, buying a house… Maybe a ring…

Only he had screwed up on the way, and now all he had left of Lily was Tempest Potter who every time Severus looked at her was a symbol and mockery of what he could have had, only didn't.

Severus's mark burned suddenly with alarming intensity, and Severus shoved the chair he was seated in backwards, standing roughly.

Dumbledore had said to protect the girl-who-lived, and so Severus would, for Lily if for nothing else.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: The First Task.

Hermione's trip to the kitchens and audience with house elves must not have gone in her favour because the following morning she was scribbling notes in her S.P.E.W notebook furiously, saying that the elves were brainwashed into servitude, and that she had to think of a different approach then.

Tempest had explained to Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George the events of last night, and all of them were shocked.

Finally Ron managed words. "Well, it's good that Sirius managed to give you some advice… Hermione, have you heard of that Conjuncvietius thing?"

Tempest hid a smile as Ron mangled the name, while Hermione drew herself up primly. "It's Conjunctivitis, and it's a spell to irritate the eyes- ingenious really, the dragon will be distracted and you'll be able to get past it easily!"

Tempest frowned, it did seem like a great spell, only if she missed… "What if I miss though? I mean, if I miss, and then the dragon roasts me- and knowing my luck it will…"

"Oh." Hermione sat back in her chair as though it hadn't occurred to her.

"Yeah."

"Play to your strengths-" Hermione said. "That was roughly what Sirius said right?"

"Yeah."

There was silence for a few seconds until George spoke. "Hey Tempest, if you die, can I have your Firebolt?"

"George!" Tempest exclaimed swatting at his arm. Then it hit her. _Her Firebolt_.

Tempest wasn't one to walk around parading her abilities, but she assumed that she was a fairly good flyer, and if she was in the air and the dragon chained to the ground…. Only she wasn't allowed her broomstick was she?

Then it hit her. "Hermione, I need you to help me learn the Summoning Charm."

~Y.-.Y~

On Monday morning, Tempest felt sick. In fact she felt so sick she was almost certain that she had caught a bad cold and would die of it before the dragon had its turn. Hermione was trying to persuade her to go to Madame Pomfrey, but Tempest didn't want any more attention, and besides, apart from the fact that she felt like she was tied up upside down over a lake of lava with dragons surrounding her and waiting for her to fall, she felt _fine_.

Really.

At breakfast Tempest considered bringing her invisibility cloak to the First Task, then quickly dropped the idea as an image of the cloak catching fire and burning to ashes did not bode well for her.

She finished breakfast with difficulty (everything tasted like cardboard and her mouth felt like it was coated in sandpaper) and as she stood up, she saw Cedric Diggory leaving the Hufflepuff table.

Cedric didn't know about the dragons. In fact, he was the only champion who didn't as far as Tempest knew, after all, Madame Maxime had seen them, and so, she imagined, had Karkaroff, and doubtless they would have told their champions… So tomorrow Cedric would be the only one with no idea of what was ahead.

Perhaps if it had been someone else, Tempest wouldn't have thought twice about it, but Cedric had been nice to her, and went to extra lengths to keep the Hufflepuffs off her back, it was only right she paid him back wasn't it?

"You five, I'll see you in the greenhouses," Tempest said as she watched Cedric leave the Hall. "Go on, I'll catch up."

"Tempest, you'll be late, the bell's about to ring-"

"Guys, let Hedgy go- it's about time she skipped class!"

Tempest momentarily forgot about Cedric and turned back to George who was smirking at her. "Hedgy?"

As George began to walk away, he called back two words. "Your hair!"

Tempest blinked as she hurried after Cedric. _Her hair_? She knew it was always messy and stuck up in the oddest ways, and that perhaps if she grew it longer it would be easier, but she had been so used to wearing it short and not combing it at all that in the past few days with all the combined stress and image of a huge dragon poised to eat her she hadn't paid any attention to the mirror at all, so did she really look that much like a hedgehog?

_Whatever._ Tempest told herself. Totally pointless to waste time thinking about George's weird nicknames.

By the time Tempest reached the bottom of the marble staircase, Cedric was at the top. He was surrounded by a pack other sixth-years, but even though Tempest didn't really want to speak to him in front of them, they weren't the ones that had constantly jeered abuse at her and they weren't wearing the **POTTER STINKS** badges either, so…

"Cedric!" she yelled, causing him to turn in surprise.

Tempest ran up the stairs grateful that they had stopped.

"Hey Tempest, I've got Charms-"

"Dragons," Tempest rushed out, before her nerve failed her.

"What?" Cedric asked, his forehead creasing as he frowned. His friends who had begun to walk away stopped and turned back.

"The first task. It's dragons, they've got four, one for each of us and we've got to get past them."

Cedric stared at her and as did his friends, but Tempest kept her eyes on Cedric, seeing a slight flicker of panic behind his grey eyes.

"Are you sure?" Cedric said in hushed voice.

"You think I'd not be sure about four giant beasts that breathe fire?" Tempest joked. "I'd bet my Firebolt on them."

"But how did you find out then? We're not supposed to know…"

"Never mind." Tempest interrupted. She didn't want to sell out Hagrid, after all, he'd get into trouble if she told. "I'm not the only one who knows, Fleur and Krum will know, Maxime and Karkaroff both saw the dragons too."

Cedric studied her as though she was a particularly interesting piece of parchment. "Why are you telling me?"

Tempest stared at him in disbelief. She wasn't _that_ callous to leave Cedric in the dark whereas everyone else had an advantage. She didn't even think she would do it to Malfoy. Well maybe she would to Pansy Parkinson. "It's just fair isn't it? I mean, I couldn't let you be the only one who didn't know…"

Cedric's friends were practically yanking him away now saying that Flitwick would be wondering where they were, and just as the door to the Charms closed behind them, she heard Cedric call a quick thank you.

Feeling slightly better about herself, Tempest hurried back down the stairs and back through the Great Hall on her way to the greenhouses.

She slammed through the glass doors of greenhouse two interrupting Professor Sprout's demonstration of how to prune a Flutterby Bush, and quickly sat down to Hermione and Ron with a quick apology to Professor Spout.

"Where did you go?" Hermione hissed, "If you think that I'm going to take notes for you-"

Tempest shook her head. "Hermione, when have I ever asked you to take notes for me? That's Ron's job!"

"Hey!" protested Ron, who then quailed as Tempest shot him a look.

"You know it's true Ron."

He shrugged and had the grace to look sheepish as Tempest continued.

"I went to tell Cedric about the dragons."

For a moment Ron only gapped at her, while Hermione stared hard at Tempest, then nodded. "I thought so."

"Yes well- wait, what?"

Hermione sighed dramatically and put down her shears. "Tempest, you're just not the type to hold an advantage over anyone, even if it's your competition. Ever since you said that Krum and Fleur knew, I'd been waiting for you to tell Cedric."

"But I only told you half an hour ago!"

"Exactly."

Tempest sighed and picked up her own shears, only to almost cut off her own finger as Ron suddenly burst into a speech. "_Tempest!_ This is a competition! You can't just go around helping your enemies!"

"Ron! He's not my enemy, we're still from the same school- he's been decent to me- and it's not like he deserves to go to the First Task tomorrow totally unprepared while the rest of us hold one over him!"

Ron visibly deflated at that. "I wouldn't have done it." He said finally, a touch sulkily.

Tempest laughed. "Yeah, I know."

~Y.-.Y~

Now that Tempest was concentrating solely on the Summoning charm, the rest of the day she was so distracted that in Potions she did a Neville, causing her cauldron to melt earning twenty points to be taken from Gryffindor, in Divination she snapped and threw her glass ball out the window which resulted in another ten points from Gryffindor, and even in Transfiguration she earned Minnie's disapproval by turning her hedgehog a beautiful shade of green instead of into an ashtray.

Lying on a couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, Tempest stared blankly at the green hedgehog in front of her who was nibbling serenely on a piece of lettuce.

Minnie had said that regardless of the First task tomorrow, she still had extra homework to turn the hedgehog back to brown, and then into an ashtray.

Tempest was so desperate she had even begged Hermione to help her, but for the first time, Hermione had been able to do nothing. Somehow, Tempest had managed to make the colour permanent.

So nothing short of dipping the hedgehog into a vat of brown muggle dye would change the hedgehog back to brown.

Tempest imagined that she would rather have faced the dragon right then and there rather than the bout of playful teasing the twins had subjected her to as they came into the common room and found the hedgehog headed girl facing an actual hedgehog.

On top of all of that, Tempest still hadn't managed to master the Summoning charm. In fact it was becoming so hopeless, and even Ron had managed to summon a bar of chocolate straight from Fred's hand to his own before Tempest did, that Tempest was giving up on the idea.

Why not just use Sirius's idea and if she missed- well the dragon keepers would save her probably, and that way maybe she would be so injured they had to pull her from the Tournament.

Tempest shook the evil thoughts from her mind, and feeling angry at herself, she jabbed her wand at the hedgehog and muttered, "Accio."

To her amazement, the hedgehog squeaked and sailed from the couch into the palm of her hand.

Tempest almost dropped the critter in shock. "I did it!" she yelled.

"You did it!" Hermione seemed just as ecstatic as Tempest, probably because she was exhausted of demonstrating the spell over and over.

"I did it! Thank you Hermione!" Tempest grabbed Hermione's hands and danced the two of them around the room, the hedgehog perched on Tempest's shoulder.

George stood up with Fred, rubbing their eyes. "Finally," he mumbled, "Great… Now I'm going to bed, G'night Hedgy… Hedgy Jr…"

And the two vanished up the staircase that led to the sixth-year boy's dormitories.

Tempest flopped down back on the couch beside Hermione and slung an arm around both her and Ron's shoulders. "Thanks." She huffed in exhaustion.

"Don't get cocky yet Tempest," Hermione said sternly, even though the smile was still on her face, "do it one more time, just to make sure."

"You're the face of optimism," Tempest grinned, but she pointed her wand at Hermione's copy of _Hogwarts a History_ on the coffee table with new confidence, and it sailed neatly into Tempest's hand. "There you go!"

"Tempest, I really think you've got it!" Ron said with a bit too much enthusiasm, as Tempest summoned Nyx from across the room, settling the cat in her lap.

"As long as it works tomorrow…" Tempest said, suddenly realizing that she had to fetch her Firebolt all the way from the castle… "I'm going to be under even more pressure, and the distance is a _lot_ bigger than now…"

"I doesn't matter." Hermione said with sudden Minnie sternness. "Just as long as you're concentrating really, really hard on it, and have the right focus, you'll do fine. Now Tempest, we'd better get some sleep, it's almost midnight right now…"

Tempest had been concentrating so hard on learning the Summoning Charm and turning Hedgy Jr (what she had named her hedgehog for the time being) into an ashtray, that some of her blind panic about the First Task had left her. It returned in full measure, however, on the following morning. The atmosphere in the school was one of great tension and excitement. Lessons were to stop at midday, giving all the students time to get down to the dragons' enclosure - though of course, they didn't yet know what they would find there.

Tempest felt oddly separate from everyone around her, like she was inside a glass box with the rest of the world outside. A surprising amount of people- even the ones who had been jeering at her in the past few weeks- had come up to her to wish her luck, but the Slytherins were insufferable as ever, offering her boxes of tissues and flashing their badges her way.

Time seemed to hate Tempest at the moment, because one moment she was at breakfast, and the next she was seated at the Gryffindor table at lunch a coil of snakes writing in her stomach. In less than ten minutes she would have to go down to the champions tent….

"Miss Potter!"

Tempest looked up to see Minnie hurrying to her with most of the Great Hall watching her. "Miss Potter, the champions have to come down into the grounds now… you have to get ready for your first task."

"Oh." Tempest remained seated as though waiting for someone to rescue her. When no one did, she stood up and picked Hedgy Jr off her shoulder and gave her to Hermione. "Okay then. Um… See you later, Ron, Hermione, Ginny… Jr… hopefully next time I see you people I won't be in a box…"

"Good luck," Hermione whispered.

"You'll do great!" Ron said, grinning awkwardly.

Tempest left the Great Hall with Minnie, feeling the weight of the stares from everyone in the Great Hall. Minnie didn't seem like herself either, she looked just as nervous as Hermione.

"You… Are…" Minnie seemed to have trouble shifting from Professor McGonagall back to Minnie. "Are you alright Tempest?" she managed as they walked out down the steps into the cold November afternoon.

Tempest didn't even bother answering, only giving a short laugh.

There was silence for a few more seconds, and then Minnie spoke again. "You named the hedgehog Jr?"

Tempest shrugged. "You said I had to keep him until I could turn him back brown, and then transfigure him into an ash tray… Except somehow I managed to make the colour permanent. So I named him Hedgy Jr, because according to George I'm Hedgy… so…" Tempest was babbling, but she was nervous, so that could be excused couldn't it?

Minnie sighed in her usual exasperated way. "Trust you, Tempest."

They were silent again as they entered the Forbidden Forest- Forbidden as it was, it seemed to Tempest like she spent most of her time in it.

Minnie placed a hand on Tempest's shoulder. "Now, when you're there… Don't panic. Just keep calm, and we have wizards standing by to control the situation if it gets out of hand. The main thing to do is just do your best, and nobody will think any worse of you if… well…"

"If I fail or die?" Tempest said quite blandly.

"Pretty much." Replied Minnie.

They were walking towards the place where the dragons were, around the edge of the forest, but when they approached the clump of trees behind which the enclosure would be clearly visible, Tempest saw a tent had been erected, it's entrance facing them, screening the dragons from view.

"You're to go in here with the other champions," Minnie said, her voice trembling only slightly, something that made Tempest feel a sudden rush of affection towards her, "and wait your turn, Mr Bagman is in there… he'll be telling you the… the procedure. Good luck."

"Thank you." Tempest said, her voice sounding rather hollow.

Tempest went inside.

Fleur was sitting in the corner on a wooden stool, not smiling or looking nearly as composed as usual, but rather pale. Krum looked surlier than usual, which Tempest assumed was his way of showing stress, and Cedric was pacing. All three looked up as Tempest entered, Fleur and Cedric managing small rather forced smiles which Tempest struggled rather unsuccessfully to return.

"Tempest! Here you are!" Bagman said happily, looking around. "Come in, come in, now we can get started!"

Bagman looked very out of place and much too colourful standing among all the pale-faced champions. He was wearing his old Wasp robes even though Tempest didn't really see the point of it. "Well, now we're all here- time to fill you in!" Bagman said brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag-" He held up a small bag of purple silk and shook it at them- "from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different- er-varieties, you see. And I have to tell you something else too… ah, yes… your task to the collect the golden egg!"

Tempest understood roughly what Bagman was saying, but the egg? Then she realized. Charlie had said something about nesting females, so that meant that the dragons would be protecting the golden egg along with the other ones… Glancing around, she saw no one looked overly confused, proof that Karkaroff and Maxime had indeed told their champions about the dragons.

But then they had volunteered for this, they had known the risks after all…

And in what seemed like the next second, hundreds upon hundreds of feet could be heard passing the tent, their owners talking excitedly, laughing, joking- because they wouldn't be in danger, they would just be watching the good show. Tempest could even hear her own name being said- people were placing bets on how long she would last.

Feeling sick, Tempest wanted to sit down, but then Bagman was opening the neck of the purple silk sack and waving the champions over to form a circle around him.

"Ladies first," he said, offering it to Tempest.

Knowing what was coming, Tempest did _not_ want to put her hand in the bag, but forcing down her instincts, she dipped her hand into the bag and winced as she came in contact with something sharp. She gripped it, feeling it squirm, and pulled it out, her heart sinking as she saw what she held.

"The Hungarian Horntail," Bagman whispered and Tempest watched as the miniature dragon paced two and fro on her hand, releasing a short burst of flame. There was a tag with a number four written on it tied around the dragon's neck.

Fleur went next and pulled out a tiny perfect model of the Welsh Green with a number two around its neck.

Krum had the Chinese Fireball with a number three and didn't react at all, merely stood there with the dragon winding its way around his fingers and stared moodily at the wall opposite.

Cedric was last, and he pulled out the bluish-grey Swedish Short-Snout, with a number one.

"Well there you are!" said Bagman, breaking the tense silence, "You have each pulled out the dragon you will face, and the numbers refer to the order in which you are to take on the dragons, do you see? Now I'm going to have to leave, because I'm commentating. Mr Diggory, you're first, just go out into the enclosure when you hear a whistle, alright? Now, Tempest, could I have a quick word outside?"

"Okay…?" Tempest answered, following him out of the tent and wondering what he wanted. They walked a short distance away from the tent into the shelter of the trees, and then Bagman turned to her with a fatherly expression on his face.

"Are you feeling alright Tempest? Anything I can get you?"

"What?" Tempest asked in disbelief, "I mean, well, no, not really, the task's going to begin soon anyway…" she glanced down at the Horntail that she was still holding. It looked much easier with such a small replica.

"Got a plan though? Because you are the youngest, and a girl-" Bagman said, lowering his voice, "No one would have to know if I gave you a few pointers, and if there's anything I can do to help-"

"No thank you-" Tempest said rather frigidly, not at all pleased to be judged by her age and gender. "-I think I've got a decent plan…"

There was a sudden blast of a whistle, and Bagman started. "Good lord, I've got to run! Goodbye Tempest!" he exclaimed and rushed off.

Tempest walked back to the tent and saw Cedric emerging from it, looking positively sick. "Good luck," Tempest mumbled, and she thought Cedric shot her a grateful look, only her vision seemed to be shifting, so she couldn't be sure.

Tempest went back inside to Fleur and Krum, not even looking around for a chair only sitting down on the dirt ground, leaning her head back on the side of the tent. Seconds later they heard the roar of the crowd, which meant Cedric must have entered the enclosure and was face to face with the living counterpart of his model.

Tempest felt worse and worse as she sat there and listened. At some point Fleur had sat down on the ground beside her looking just as bad as Tempest felt, and the two listened as the crowed screamed, yelled, and gasped like one giant single living being as they watched Cedric do whatever he was doing to get past the Swedish Short-Snout.

Krum was still staring at the ground. Fleur was tense as a rail, her hands clenched in tight fists at her side. She was next, Tempest realized, after Cedric, she would be next, and then Krum… and then herself…

Suddenly Tempest's plan didn't seem so great after all.

Bagman's commentary was making the whole thing even worse, as he gasped along with the crowd and yelled out lines that made horrible images form in Tempest's mind. "Oooh, narrow miss there, very narrow…" "He's taking risks this one!" "Clever move- pity it didn't work…"

After fifteen minutes of that torture, Tempest heard the deafening roar of both the crowd and the dragon, that meant only one thing: Cedric had gotten past the dragon and retrieved his golden egg.

"Excellent performance!" Bagman was shouting, "and now the marks from the judges!"

He did not shout out the marks though, so Tempest assumed that the judges perhaps were showing them to the crowd. There was another massive cheer and then the whistle blew again.

"One down, three to go! Miss Delacour, if you please!"

Fleur was trembling from head to foot as she stood and dusted off her clothes.

"Good luck Fleur," Tempest said, as the girl reached the flap of the tent.

Fleur turned back for a split second. "Thank you." And the words seemed heartfelt.

Tempest was left alone in the tent with Krum, and although she badly wanted to break the awful silence, he did not seem to want to, so she remained seated, staring at the canopy of the tent above. She felt positively sick, why had she eaten lunch at all? She was going to throw up, make a fool of herself, get killed….

The same process began again, the crowd responding to whatever Fleur was doing, Bagman yelling out things that really weren't helping… "Oh I'm not sure that was wise!" "Oh nearly! Careful now… good lord, I thought she'd had it then!"

Ten minutes later, Tempest heard the crowd burst into applause again, and she knew Fleur must have been successful too. There was a pause while Fleur's marks were being shown, and then more clapping… Then the whistle.

"And here comes Mr Krum!" cried Bagman, and as Krum stood, Tempest felt an urge to wish him good luck too.

"Good luck!" she called.

Krum stared at her for a second, his expression inscrutable, then he said: "And to you too." And then he was gone.

Tempest felt very aware of herself as the entire process began for the third time, her heart was pounding so fast it surely couldn't be right, there was a fuzziness in her ears that made her feel like she was underwater, it was like she had retreated into herself and was watching her own actions through a television screen…

"Very daring!" Bagman yelled, and Tempest heard the Chinese Fireball make a horrible screeching roaring sound while the crowd gasped. "That's some nerve he's showing! Excellent spell… and it's hit! And… yes… He's got the egg!"

Tempest didn't know whether or not to feel relieved that the moment was finally there. There would be no more horrible waiting… But still, Tempest wouldn't have minded if the moment never happened even though….

The whistle blew, and Tempest stood, worried her legs wouldn't support her as she staggered out of the tent, sure she was as white as a sheet.

Before, the world had seemed to be in black and white, but as she reached the enclosure, colour returned with a vividness that almost blinded her.

There were hundreds and hundreds of faces staring at her from the stands, and then there was the Horntail.

It seemed even more bigger and vicious than the last time Tempest had saw it, and it was crouched low over her clutch of eggs at the other side of the enclosure, her wings half-furled, and her yellow eyes on Tempest. Tempest's eyes were drawn to the Horntail's tail, which the Horntail was thrashing against the ground, leaving huge deep gouge marks in the rock.

The crowd was yelling, and Tempest didn't really know whether it was in her favour or not, because her ears seemed to have been stuffed with cotton wool, and she didn't realize that the Horntail was swinging its tail towards her, and she wasn't moving…

Tempest dove to the side at the very last moment as her muscles unfroze, feeling the tail miss her by inches, slamming into the ground mere centimetres from where she lay. She could hear the voice of Ludo Bagman booming around the pitch, but didn't allow it to distract her.

She flung out an arm, "Accio Firebolt!" she yelled, just as she was forced to execute a clumsy roll to the side as the Horntail's teeth snapped just above her head.

Tempest rolled to the side again as the tail slammed down by her _again_, and suddenly the dragon seemed to be right on top of her. The teeth were snapping at her, while the tail kept missing her by inches… Tempest couldn't see the egg, raw instinct telling her to _get away from the dragon_…

Tempest lunged forwards through two of the Horntail's legs, managing to find an empty pocket of space, just as the tail whistled towards her.

She ducked, and the next moment there was an intake of breath from the dragon, and suddenly a torrent of fire was sent straight to where Tempest was standing.

There was a chorus of gasps and screams as Tempest reacted without thinking. "Aguamenti!" she yelled, bringing up her wand in a sweeping motion, and a wave of water materialized from the air, the fire meeting the water, and a cloud of steam blasted up around them as the fire met the water.

The tail swung again at Tempest, and without time to move, she brought her wand upwards, and yelled- because for some reason it seemed like yelling was appropriate- "Reducto!"

The tail was blasted away from her, and the Horntail roared in fury.

"..and this is amazing folks, Tempest Potter, the youngest Triwizard champion is _duelling_ the dragon!"

Tempest didn't know about the 'duelling' part, but as the dragon lunged again, Tempest had to duck down behind a clump of rocks as the dragon breathed fire again, heating up the rocks until they were cherry red.

Then the sky went dark, and Tempest bit back a scream as she saw the Horntail pounce.

She flung herself to the side, landing heavily on the rocks, the sharp edges digging into her skin, as the dragon lunged for her, Tempest made a slashing motion with her wand, "Tempestas!"

The gust of wind sent the dragon slamming backwards into the wall of the enclosure, and Tempest was stunned at the effect of her spell, except the dragon was already recovering, and it lunged for Tempest again, forcing her to flatten herself to the ground.

Tempest was sweating now, and it didn't feel like she was trying to get past the dragon, more like stay alive…

Where was her Firebolt?

The dragon's paw with claws extended stretched out for her, and Tempest threw herself to the side, bruising her ribs, but managing to find her feet, staggering upright. And then, out of the corner of her eye she saw her broom curing through the air, coming straight towards her…

…and then the Horntail's tail slammed into her side, the spikes tearing through her shirt, and sending Tempest flying across the arena…

There had been a sickening crack when the tail hit her, and Tempest's side exploded in pain, her mind screaming along with the crowd….

…..and then suddenly she hit something that was not the side of the enclosure, but her Firebolt…

Tempest's fingers hit her broom, and closed around the end of it, somehow managing to sling her leg around it in mid-air, and with all the strength left in her arms, she pulled herself upright, and urged the broom upwards, breathing heavily.

The right-side of her body was on fire, and her hair was actually on fire, but she was on her broom, and for the first time in the arena, she felt safe.

"Amazing! The Miss Potter has managed to mount her broom in mid-air, what will she do next? Amazing flying too! This girl has _skill_, Mr Krum, are you watching this?"

Tempest pulled the broom higher, circling the Horntail's head, the cheers of the crowd urging her on. She was safe for now, the Horntail was still on the ground, and Tempest could cast the Conjunctivis Curse now- only wouldn't the dragon trample the eggs if it couldn't see?

The golden egg was right beneath the Horntail's belly, it would be too dangerous to swoop in now… If she could just get the Horntail into the air… It might just…

Tempest began to circle, swooping down and flying dangerously close to the dragon's head, hovering closer and closer, but not close enough to be caught by the paws of the Horntail, or the vicious teeth.

_Come on…_ Tempest urged, and then with a roar of frustration, the Horntail released a jet of flame, which Tempest blocked with another _Aguamenti_, and then took off.

The dragon's wings unfolded, and it reared up, teeth bared.

Tempest could see the muscles in the Horntail's scaly legs bunch, and then with a roar, the Horntail sprung forwards and upwards, and Tempest had to dive to the side, amazed at the speed of the dragon.

Tempest gritted her teeth as she flew higher, not so fast as to discourage the dragon, but fast enough to not be caught.

Come on… Come on… A bit higher…

And then with a final bellow, the Horntail lunged at Tempest with such speed, Tempest almost lost her grip on her broom.

Higher and higher the circled, until the clouds were surrounding Tempest and her clothes were wet and cold from the condensation.

The dragon still followed, roaring and breathing fire, but Tempest had it now….

With a final burst of speed, Tempest dove to the left, shooting straight down, past the teeth of the dragon, weaving around a burst of flame, missing the wicked tail by centimetres, and hurtling back down to the ground trailing fire from her clothes and hair… icy daggers seemed to stab into her eyes, Tempest gritted her teeth.

With morbid amusement, she remembered watching Krum do the Wronski Feint at the Quidditch World Cup, and wanting to practice it herself. Well she was practicing it now alright.

The world had gone silent and cold, only the slick grip of the broom beneath her finger tips and the sight of the glint of gold below her…

She was so close, thirty meters, twenty, ten…

And then the egg was in in front of her, and Tempest and caught it, the metal cold against her chest as she hugged it to herself, while the other gripped the handle of her broomstick, and she shot upwards, breathing heavily from exertion.

The cheers were deafening and ringing in Tempest's ears as the Horntail appeared above the enclosure, and the keepers stunned it, sending it crashing down the ground, making the stands shake.

Tempest was dazed, dazed that it had worked, dazed that it was over…

She landed, and she could see the people from the stands flowing out over the seats and running towards her, screaming and cheering.

"…and the youngest champion, Tempest Potter has retrieved her egg with the fastest time! Now if we…." Bagman's voice faded out, as Tempest blinked vaguely.

Tempest wanted to grin, to smile, to hold the hard won egg above her head and show off, only right now it seemed like all her senses had returned, and she was aware of the fact that even though the fire in her hair had gone out, the right side of her body was numb with pain, and covered in blood….

…and then just as Hermione and Ron reached her, both beaming with pride, Tempest fainted.

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest came to, the world swimming before her eyes.

Four pairs of anxious eyes were surrounding her, and Tempest groaned, closing her eyes again.

"Dragons!" Complained the voice of Madam Pomfrey, "Setting a band of children against them… what has the world come to..?"

"Tempest?"

Tempest cracked an eye open to see the anxious face of Hermione. "Wazzup Hermione?" Tempest slurred in a hoarse voice.

"Well you passed out, and then Madam Pomfrey said that you had broken a few ribs and lost a lot of blood… She's knitted your bones, and got you bandaged up now… how are you feeling?"

Tempest opened both eyes, seeing Madam Pomfrey bustling over to Cedric, who was sitting on a chair in another tent, whereas Tempest was lying on a makeshift stretcher with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny surrounding her.

"Well quite honestly I feel like I've been swallowed by a dragon and then spat out." Tempest said, trying to roll over to sit up, only to have to bite back a hiss of pain.

"Are all the other champions alright?" Tempest asked, shoving an arm underneath her to push herself upright.

Ginny laughed, "Tempest, you almost bleed to _death_ from an encounter with a dragon, and you ask how the others got on?"

Tempest shrugged, the motion hurting, and gestured for Ginny to go on.

"Well Cedric took a pretty nasty gash to his shoulder, and Krum almost got trampled by his dragon, but apart from that they're fine… Whereas you-" Ginny gave a rather pointed look to Tempest's bandaged stomach, "Will have some pretty impressive scars to show."

Tempest grimaced. "It's boys who like battle scars Ginny- me, I'm just glad I wasn't cut in two!"

Ron clapped Tempest on the back. "Well oh mighty defeater-of-dragons, if you can stand, we need to go out to get you score, the judges were waiting for you to wake up… sooo…"

"Alright," Ron helped Tempest up as she stumbled a bit, the world spinning.

"Miss Potter! Sit down! You cannot go outside like that- you were just mauled by a dragon, you are in no state to-"

"Madam Pomfrey," Tempest said, trying to make her voice sound steady, and not like the mush that she was imagining, "I'll be back in a just a second, I want to get my score after all, I just had a run-in with a dragon, I want to get something out of it other than the experience…"

Madam Pomfrey looked like she was going to argue, then turned around, muttering, "I'll go fetch Minerva- curse Barty Crouch and that Bagman… Dragons! On children!"

Smiling only slightly, Hermione and Ron helped Tempest out of the tent, ignoring her protests and half-hearted shoves that she gave them.

"How'd the other's do?" Tempest asked Ginny, who seemed the most informed on other matters- Hermione and Ron were too focused on Tempest herself.

"Well in my opinion-"

Ron snorted loudly, causing Ginny to cuff him around the head, making Tempest in turn snort with laughter, then Ginny continued.

"-as I was saying, in my opinion, you were the best, no competition. Cedric did this odd thing where he turned a rock into a dog was it? I think he wanted to distract the dragon, and it sort of worked, he got close to the egg, but then the dragon decided it liked Cedric more than the dog- and he got badly burned, but he managed to steal the egg in the end… Fleur tried this charm, I think she tried to put it to sleep, and it worked, but then it started snoring, and it set her jacket on fire! She put it out with a bit of water though… And Krum- he didn't even think of flying! He used the Conjunctivis Curse! He distracted it and shot the spell right into its eyes, and he was probably the best after you, because the dragon roared in pain and it trampled on most of the eggs, which he got points taken off for that- you weren't meant to damage them… I suppose you'll get points taken off because you were injured too Tempest…"

Tempest didn't really care at the moment. She could come in last and she would still be euphoric. It was over. The nightmarish first task with looming dragons was over and she was still alive. Battered, bruised, but alive.

They reached the enclosure, and now that the Horntail had been taken away, Tempest could see where the five judges were sitting- right at the other end, in raised seats draped in gold.

"It's marks out of ten from each one," Ron explained, and Tempest blinked up at the seats saw the first judge- Madame Maxime- raise her wand in the air. What looked like a long silver ribbon shot out of it, and it twisted itself into a large figure eight.

"Not bad!" Hermione cheered, gripping Tempest's shoulder. "I suppose she took off marks for your side- and considering she's your competition that's very generous…"

Mr Crouch was next, and he shot a number nine into the air.

Tempest was amazed- she hadn't put that great of a performance up had she?

Next was Dumbledore, and he shot up a nine. The crowd was cheering loudly for Tempest, and she was stunned by the applause… Not that many people had seemed on her side before…

Ludo Bagman- Ten.

Tempest gapped at him while Ron, Hermione and Ginny went ballistic by her side. "But, I don't understand-" Tempest said, "I mean, I was injured… I passed out for goodness sakes- what's he-"

"Tempest!" yelled Ron, "Don't complain- this is great!"

Karkaroff was last, and Tempest saw his brown knit like he was thinking. Tempest knew not to expect too much- after all, he wasn't likely to be as fair as Madame Maxime, and he did have a grudge against her- plus after what Sirius had told her, she hardly imagined that he would be on her side….

Finally he waved his wand, and a six shot out of his wand.

Tempest wasn't disappointed at all- it was better than she could have hoped for, but Ron obviously didn't think so. "What?" He yelled up at Karkaroff, even though above the crowd it was unlikely that he could be heard- "Six? You biased lousy bastard- you gave Krum ten!"

Tempest laughed, grabbing at Ron's arm, trying not to move her side. "Ron, it's fine, honestly! He could give me a two and I wouldn't care! It's much better than I thought I'd be!"

Ron stopped, but he still looked murderous.

As they left the enclosure, Tempest's heart felt so light it was as if she was walking on air. She met Minnie, who didn't fuss over her as much as she would have if there were no witnesses, and congratulated her on her excellent performance, only berating her to be more careful the next time.

The school had seemed to be on her side, and come to think of it, even though she had the animosity with the Slytherins, during the time when she was trying to evade the dragon, she had seen some first year Slytherins cheering for her too….

"You're in first place Tempest!" Charlie Weasley said, rushing out of nowhere to congratulate her, "Just two points ahead of Krum, you're winning! I've got to run now! I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened, and you were excellent! By the way, they told me you had to hang around for a bit Tempest, Bagman wants a word, back in the champion's tent."

Tempest frowned slightly as Charlie rushed off. She had said to Madam Pomfrey that she would go back to get fixed up properly, and her side was beginning to burn dully again, but she turned and re-entered the tent, with her friends waiting outside.

Entering the tent, she was met with instantly friendly smiles from Cedric and Fleur, who didn't seem miffed at all that Tempest was outscoring them- (From what Tempest had heard, Krum was second, while Cedric and Fleur tied for third,) and the atmosphere was so different than before that Tempest wondered whether or not it was the same tent. The tent seemed warm and welcoming now, in comparison to before where it was foreboding and cold while Tempest was waiting to face a dragon.

Cedric had a bandage wrapped around his arm and an odd orange past on the side of his face which Tempest assumed was for his burns, Fleur seemed relatively unharmed, and Krum looked the same as ever.

"Well done, all of you!" said Ludo Bagman, bouncing into the tent and looking as pleased as though he himself had personally just got past a dragon. "Now, just a quick few words. You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth – but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open … see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg – because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

Tempest left the tent and rejoined Ron, Hermione and Ginny and on hearing from Ginny that Madam Pomfrey was waiting for her up at the school, the four of them set off. They walked around the edge of the forest, chatting away, as they told Tempest in greater detail what the other champions had done- and then Ron began giving a long detail narration of Tempest's spat with the dragon, emblemising the details from his point of view.

As they rounded a clump of trees, a witch leapt out from behind them.

It was Rita Skeeter.

"…and then the dragon started breathing fire- and I thought you were a goner, but then you whipped out your wand and-"

Skeeter was wearing acid-green robes today, and a quill that Tempest recognized to be a Quick Quotes Quill was almost blended in with them. "Congratulations Tempest!" she said, beaming at her. "I wonder if you could give me a word? How did you feel facing the dragon? How do you feel about outscoring the other- older- and more qualified champions?"

Tempest looked at Skeeter with contempt. "Sure you can have a word.. or maybe a few. Go rack off."

And she slung one arm around Hermione, and the other around Ginny they walked off to the castle together.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Aftermath

Tempest spent the next few days in the Hospital Wing as Madam Pomfrey fussed around her, something that annoyed both her and Fred and George. The latter because they very badly wanted to hold a party to celebrate- and they couldn't do it without the star- and the former because she was going stir crazy.

Yes she had visitors every day, ranging from everyone in Gryffindor house down to even several Ravenclaws who were impressed by Tempest's performance.

Even with the company of Nyx, who was like a furry comforter and Hedgy Jr (both pets were constantly being complained about by Madam Pomfrey {and yes, Hedgy Jr was still green}) Tempest was _bored_. So the moment she was released from the Hospital wing, she flew around the castle like a demon, dancing around the grounds with giddiness, not really caring whether anyone thought she was crazy.

Tempest had written out a letter and gotten Ron to send it to Sirius with Pig a few days ago, and she was anxiously awaiting his reply. It had been a day after that, that she wrote to Remus Lupin, her ex-defence against the dark arts teacher. She didn't exactly know why she did it, only that she felt it was wrong to write to Sirius without writing to him.

But she did not have enough time to enjoy her freedom, because as soon as Fred and George heard that she was out of the Hospital wing, they dragged her off to Gryffindor tower to celebrate.

As soon as they were through the Fat Lady (who kept congratulating Tempest,) the common room had exploded in cheers, deafening Tempest. She had been hoisted up on some seventh year boys shoulders, and paraded around the room proudly.

Lee Jordan had set off some Filibuster's Fireworks so the air was filled with stars and sparks, while Dean Thomas, who was excellent at drawing, had put up some impressive new banners, some of which were rather flattering- Tempest flying on her Firebolt around the dragon with her hair on fire and somehow managing to look ridiculously heroic, duelling the dragon, and another one of Tempest fainting.

Tempest didn't know whether or not to be insulted or not.

Tempest sat down on a crowded couch and sighed in contentment. She had forgotten what it was like to be this relaxed- this content- this _happy_. For once she didn't have the shadow of the great dragon looming over her, the second task wasn't for months, and no-one, in the two hours that Tempest had been out of the hospital wing, had been glaring or laughing at her.

"Blimey, this is heavy," said Lee Jordan, picking up the golden egg which Tempest had left on a table. "Open it Tempest, go on! Let's see what's inside!"

Laughing, Tempest caught the egg that Lee threw to her, and she settled it in her lap so that she had a good grip.

"Tempest, you're meant to figure out the clue on your own!" Hermione interrupted suddenly, looking as if she was duty bound to say it, but not really wanting to.

Tempest quickly intervened. "They never said anything about help from friends- only help from teachers."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, then shut it again as what Tempest said registered. "Oh. Well then open it Tempest!"

Grinning, Tempest dug her nails into the grove that ran all the way around it, and pried it open.

The egg was completely empty and hollow- but the moment the two sides of the egg separated, a horrible noise, loud and screechy like nails being dragged against a chalkboard only amplified a thousand times with other horrible sound effects that Tempest never wanted to hear again.

"SHUT IT!" Bellowed Fred, his hands clamped over his ears.

Tempest slammed the egg shut- something she would have done regardless- and dropped it onto the table in front of her panting as though she had run a race. Her head was throbbing from the horrible noise and she could have gotten a hammer and smashed the egg right then and there.

"What was that?" asked Seamus, one of Ron's friends. "It sounded like a banshee… Only worse! Maybe you've got to get past one of those next Tempest!"

Tempest was about to reply- remembering that Seamus's boggart from last year had been a banshee, when Neville cut in, face white with terror. "It was someone being tortured! You're going to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"

"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," said George. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions!"

Tempest felt a wave of relief at George, even though she knew that they would have done it anyway.

"It sounded a lot like Percy singing…" George continued, "maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower Tempest."

Tempest laughed, the mood lightening once more, and the Gryffindors filed off to find more food. Fred and George must have been down to the kitchens to the house-elves, because there was mountains of it, and as Tempest took a custard cream from the plate that George offered her, took a bite, and then turned into a bird.

The room howled with laughter, and Tempest looked around, chirping at the new turn of events. A moment later she felt like she was being squeezed through a spaghetti strainer, and she flopped back down into her seat blinking rapidly. "What _was_ that?"

"Canary Creams!" Fred beamed, appearing out of the crowd to stand by George's side. "Seven sickles each- great to prank your friends with… We're trying to charm then so they last longer… Jam tart?"

He produced a platter of them from thin air and shoved it under Tempest's nose.

"No thanks," said Tempest, "I'll get back to you when I feel less satisfied with my current species."

It was almost one in the morning when Tempest went up to the dormitory with Hermione (Lavender and Pravati had already gone up,) and collapsed on her bed, relishing the fact that she was back in her own bed with Nyx purring at her feet, Hedgy Jr snoozing on the other side of Tempest's pillow, the tell-tale sound of paper rustling of Hermione studying for hours after the lights went out and Lavender snoring like a pig.

Tempest pulled her tiny spiky dragon from her pocket and set it beside Jr, watching the dragon yawn and release a small jet of flame as it curled around Jr and closed its eyes.

Wondering slightly how many more furry, spiky and scaly additions Tempest would have to her bed, Tempest smiled slightly. Maybe Hagrid was rubbing off her, but dragons? They weren't so bad after all.

~Y.-.Y~

December found Tempest to be immensely grateful for Hogwarts thick walls, even drafty as the castle was during winter months. Tempest couldn't help but be a tiny bit smug as she watched the Durmstrang ship on the lake, which was pitching in the rough winds, it's black sails billowing against the dark skies. She imagined the Beauxbatons caravan wasn't likely to be very warm either though, and she noticed that Hagrid was keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the comer of their paddock was enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This was unhelpful, as they were still tending the horrible Skrewts and needed their wits about them.

"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid told the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an see if they fancied a kip … we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes …"

There were now only ten Skrewts left; apparently their desire to kill one another had not been exercised out of them.

Each of them were huge- now approaching six feet in length. Even Tempest, who had always tried to _like_ the monsters she encountered in Hagrid's class, could not find any room in her heart for the horrible grey armoured, fire-blasting ended, suckered and stinging… _things._ Tempest couldn't recall encountering anything more horrible in her life.

The class looked almost resignedly at the horrible things as Hagrid continued, "We'll jus' leave 'em in here," Hagrid said, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."

Bad idea though. The Skrewts apparently did not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in.

A few seconds passed (if even that) and then the class was screaming and running for the relative safety of Hagrid's cabin as the Skrewts rampaged around the pumpkin patch, the blazing and smoking wreckage of the crates strewn everywhere, and while Tempest put out the fires with a quick wave of water with her wand, Ron and Hermione tried to hold off the Skrewts by sending sparks from their wands, shepherding them back into relative order.

To Tempest amazement as she rushed to their aid, she saw Malfoy on the other side, green sparks shooting from his wand as he… _helped?_ Was he trying to make himself look good by helping them with the Skrewts instead of hiding like the rest of his friends? It didn't seem very much like him.

However she wasn't given much time to think about it as the only person who could possibly make the situation even worse, turned up.

"Well, well, well… this does look like fun." Rita Skeeter said, leaning over Hagrid's garden fence, watching the mayhem with barely concealed contempt, she was wearing horribly coloured robes again, a thick magenta cloak with a fuzzy purple collar and her crocodile-skin handbag was over her arm.

Just as Hermione managed to somehow levitate a Skrewt into a metal box she transfigured, Hagrid leapt at the Skrewt that had Tempest cornered, flattening it and slipping a rope around the Skrewt's sting.

"Who're you?" asked Hagrid, standing.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet reporter," Rita replied, beaming at him, her gold teeth glinting, and Tempest savagely wanted to knock some out with a hammer. Or preferably her fist.

"Thought Dumbledore said you weren' allowed inside the school anymore," said Hagrid, frowning slightly as he began tugging the slightly squashed Skrewt over to the others.

Tempest felt a vindictive sort of pride, that was quashed as Skeeter continued as though she hadn't heard. "What are these fascinating creatures called?" she asked, beaming so widely Tempest could count all of her teeth.

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," grunted Hagrid.

"Really?" Skeeter said, apparently full of interest. "I've never heard of them before… where do they come from?"

Tempest saw Hagrid flush a dull red, and she mentally gritted her teeth. Were the Skrewts even legal? Where had he gotten them from?

"They're fascinating though, aren't they Hermione?"

Hermione caught on and even managed to shoot a Skrewt a look that wasn't disgusted. "Yes! They're really… They have amazing… Qualities."

"Oh, you're here Tempest!" said Skeeter, and Tempest cursed for drawing attention to herself from that… witch. (in both senses.) "So do you like Care of Magical Creatures do you? One of your favourite subjects?"

Tempest detected a certain meaning behind her words and she bristled. "Yes." She said firmly as Ron and Hermione nodded too.

Hagrid had never looked happier.

"Lovely," said Rita. "Really lovely. Been teaching long?" she added to Hagrid. Tempest noticed her eyes travel over Dean (who had a nasty cut across one cheek). Lavender (whose robes were badly singed), Seamus (who was nursing several burnt fingers), and then to the cabin windows, where most of the class stood, their noses pressed against the glass waiting to see if the coast was clear.

"This is o'ny me second year," said Hagrid.

"Lovely … I don't suppose you'd like to give an interview, would you? Share some of your experience of magical creatures? The Prophet does a zoological column every Wednesday, as I'm sure you know. We could feature these – er – Bang- Ended Scoots."

"Blast-Ended Skrewts," Hagrid said eagerly. "Er – yeah, why not?"

Tempest would rather have fought another dragon than let Hagrid have an interview with that hag, but she had no way of subtly telling Hagrid without Skeeter seeing, so she had to stand there while they two made plans to meet at the Three Broomsticks later that week.

The bell rang up at the castle then, and Skeeter called after Tempest, Ron and Hermione's backs, "Good-bye then Tempest! And until Friday night, then Hagrid!"

"She'll turn whatever he says into a pack of rabid lies," hissed Tempest under her breath to the two of them.

"As long as he didn't import those Skrewts illegally or anything," Hermione said desperately. They exchanged glances. It did seem like something Hagrid do, after the three headed dog, the dragon, the spiders in the forest…

"Hagrid's been in way worse trouble though, and Dumbledore's never sacked him," Ron reassured. "Worst that can happen is Hagrid'll have to get rid of the Skrewts. Sorry… did I saw worst? I meant best."

Tempest and Hermione laughed, and then Tempest remembered something. "Hey, did you see Malfoy? He didn't run screaming into Hagrid's hut like the others did, and like he usually would."

Hermione frowned as though she had just realized, and Ron scratched his head. "I dunno… Sucking up to Hagrid?"

Tempest shook her head. "Since when has Malfoy cared what Hagrid thought?"

"Turned over a new leaf?" Hermione suggested.

Ron snorted. "'mione, this is _Malfoy_, he wouldn't turn over any leaf even if you shoved the Whomping Willow in his face."

That brought a laugh out of all of them, and they headed off to lunch together.

Tempest couldn't exactly say that double Divination that afternoon was terrible- after all, her and Ron merely made a joke out of the star-charts and predictions, predicting horrible deaths and earning almost fifty house points for being so accepting of their fore-coming deaths. But it didn't last as the pair of them snickered through her explanations of how Pluto could disrupt everyday life.

"I would think," she said, in a mystical whisper that did not conceal her obvious annoyance, "that some of us" – she stared very meaningfully at Tempest – "might be a little less frivolous had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it, and I gazed into its crystalline depths … and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?"

"An ugly old bat in outsize specs?" Ron muttered under his breath.

Tempest could barely restrain her laugh. Divination was almost worth putting up with Trelawney if it was this funny.

"Death, my dears."

Tempest rolled her eyes as Pravati and Lavender clamped their hands to their mouths, looking horrified.

"Yes," Trelawney said, nodding impressively, "It comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower… ever lower over the castle…" She stared pointedly at Tempest, who made a point of pretending to fall asleep and snore into her chart filled with horrible predictions of death.

"If she hadn't done it over a thousand times before, I might actually be convinced," Tempest told Ron, "I am seriously considering dropping Divination and taking Arithmancy with Hermione."

"You can't do that!" Ron exclaimed, "You can't leave me in that room with that woman… I'll go mad Tempest!"

"Then drop it too!"

"And take what? Muggle studies? I've got enough of that from my dad thanks… And I don't have the brains for Arithmancy."

"C'mon, Hermione will help you, and you forget that I'll just be beginning it too… I might want to talk to Min- Professor McGonagall about switching…" Tempest mused as they walked down the shifting staircases to the Great Hall to meet up with Hermione.

Meet up was, however, a mild word for when Hermione slammed into Tempest, almost knocking her down the stairs.

"Her-mio…nie!" Tempest gasped, the air knocked out of her. She struggled to draw air into her lungs before she continued. "What- what…?"

"Dobby!" Hermione exclaimed, "I was down at the kitchens-" she shot Ron a glare as he began to complain: "Not the spew thing again!"

Her withering look could have competed with Minnie's trademark one. "No it doesn't have to do with S.P.E.W Ron, I _mean_, I was down at the kitchens… Trying to convince the elves to protest for wages and sick leave…. Whatever- in any case, Dobby's working at Hogwarts, Tempest did you know?"

Tempest was nodding and shaking her head before the words registered. Before it was Hermione pulling Tempest along, and now it was Tempest dragging at Hermione. "C'mon then, let's go!"

(I skipped the whole conversation with Dobby and Winky, because it's not really that important and basically just goes over Mr Crouch's secrets…. And the actual conversation won't change much from the original HP Goblet of Fire book, and I personally think it's pointless to just re-write whole chapters and only replacing the names… [and yes, I do know that I have copied some parts of the original book for this FF, but I will try and filter them out as I go along})

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest's performance in class was thankfully improving again now that the stress of the first task was gone, and in Transfiguration she was only second after Hermione to finish transfiguring her guinea fowl into a guinea pig.

It was the end of the lesson, and all the guinea pigs (formerly guinea fowls) had been shut away in a large cage on Minnie's desk, and now Tempest was feeding Jr (who was sitting in the pocket of her school robes,) pieces of lettuce she had taken from the table at breakfast that morning. Tempest had begun a habit of carrying Jr to Transfiguration with her so that before and after class she could attempt to turn Jr back into a normal brown hedgehog, but so far, her efforts had been wasted.

"Miss Potter!"

Minnie's voice snapped, making the class cringe, and Tempest jump, quickly dumping the rest of the lettuce leaves on top of Jr's head.

"_If_ you would be so kind to pay attention, I have something to say to you all." Minnie seemed actually annoyed this time, and so Tempest decided not to push her.

"The Yule Ball is approaching, a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament-"

Instantly the room burst into noise as all the girls (with the exception of Tempest and Hermione- Tempest merely deciding that she wouldn't go,) began to chatter and giggle, while the boys (Ron included,) looked horror struck.

"-and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open to fourth years and above- although you may invite a younger student if you wish. Dress robes will be worn, and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great hall. Now then," Professor McGonagall stared severely around at the class, "The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to –er-let our hair down," she said, glaring at Lavender, who was in fits of giggles.

Pravati burst into giggles at the statement, following Lavender's example, and although Tempest did agree when Minnie wore her hair in that tight bun, it looked like she never let her hair down in any sense, but after living with Minnie for three years and around four months, she had seen the transfiguration teacher with her hair down in both ways many times. Foremost among them was when Tempest had accidently charmed all of Minnie's clothes and curtains a Slytherin green, (Tempest still had no idea how it happened, she seemed to have a skill for turning things green,) and Minnie had chased Tempest around the entire house and small backyard to make her change them back. She may have been almost seventy, but acted sometimes like a mere teenager. Tempest wondered whether it was to do with the fact that her Animagus form was only four years old in cat years.

"But that does NOT mean," continued Minnie, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts's students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

Minnie looked pointedly at Ron, who was sitting beside Tempest, and just then, Jr decided that Tempest's fingers looked tasty, and gave them a good nip.

Tempest jerked back in surprise, falling backwards off her chair to the general amusement of the class.

Blushing, Tempest stood back up, Hermione helping, and muttered apologies.

The bell rang then, and the class, still laughing for a multitude of reasons filed out, and Tempest was about to follow, when Minnie called above the noise, "Miss Potter- a word if you please."

Assuming it was either because of her falling off her chair, or because of Jr, Tempest walked up to Minnie's desk.

Minnie waited until the rest of the class had gone, Ron and Hermione included- both mouthing, 'we'll wait for you outside'- then began. "Miss Potter, the champions and their partners-"

"Wait- what?" Tempest asked quickly- partners for what?

Minnie looked at her strangely. "Your partner for the Yule Ball, your dance partners."

Tempest stared at Minnie with horror. "What?" she whispered.

"What did you think I was talking about Tempest?" asked Minnie, "It is customary that the Yule Ball is opened by the champions and their partners with a beginning dance."

"I… But I don't dance Minnie!" burst out Tempest, not even bothering to call Minnie 'Professor', "You know I don't! I was just going to sit this one out…."

"Miss Potter!" reprimanded Minnie, returning to formality suddenly, "You can't just _sit this one out_, it is expected, so I suggest you-"

"I don't dance." Tempest said as firmly as she was able.

"It is traditional," Minnie said with tone that could have frozen an avalanche in its tracks. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school."

Tempest now realized what the dress robes Minnie had gotten for her was meant for. She had seen Ron's too (Horrible and covered in lace,) and now she was frozen in horror. "But…"

"Tempest, you are finding yourself a partner, and that is final." Said Minnie.

Seeing the expression of abject horror and desperation on Tempest's face, she relented slightly, "Don't worry Tempest, at least you aren't a boy, you don't have to do the asking."

Tempest gapped at her. "Who would want to ask me?"

Minnie rolled her eyes in a surprisingly childish way. "Tempest, stop asking silly questions."

That didn't seem like an answer to Tempest's question at all, and as Tempest turned to go, her insides still frozen with ice, Minnie called her back.

"-and Tempest?"

"Yes?"

"If you are keeping that hedgehog, please stop bringing it into Transfiguration with you."

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest spent more and more time with Hermione nowadays, because even though she had mended her friendship with Ron a while ago, he did need to spend time with his- how did they call it?- Guy friends, and after all, Tempest and Hermione were both girls.

In any case, with Tempest's current predicament, Hermione was the more helpful of the two to be around.

"Tempest! You'll be fine, you've defeated a dragon, are a Hogwarts champion, and you are actually very pretty you know!"

Tempest didn't know whether Hermione was straight out lying through her teeth or not. There wasn't anything remotely attractive about herself, nor did she think anyone would want to go with her just because she defeated a dragon. After all, didn't boys want to be the ones to be the tough ones? (Ron was living proof of that,) Tempest wasn't exactly a tomboy, but she was as close to one as anyone could get, and she doubted that was something boys went for either.

There wasn't anything special about her, or at least, not in a good way. After all, she was freakishly tall, only one or two boys in her year were her height, so unless a fifth year or sixth, or even seventh, asked her, she doubted the other boys would want to go with someone taller than themselves. Also her hair could not be called sleek or shiny even if they had a troll in comparison, it looked like a ragged end of a broomstick, the scar that twisted its way down her face from temple to jawline was more gruesome than mysterious and she was thin and lanky.

Who would want to go with her?

The next day, Tempest wished she had never asked that question. She had never known so many people to put their names down to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas; she always did herself, because Minnie, as head of Gryffindor house had to stay, and so unless Tempest wanted to go back to the house by the Scottish coast by herself with only Heidy for company (and as much as she liked the elf, she would doubtless be lonely,), she stayed at Hogwarts.

This year however, it seemed almost everyone from fourth year and up were staying, and they all seemed to be obsessed with the coming ball.

Hermione had been right.

The boys, half of them whom she had never seen before in her life, never mind knew, seemed to be flocking to Tempest like bees to honey- only Tempest knew she didn't resemble honey in the least.

She was asked out by a seventh year, who for all Tempest's height still stood two heads taller than her, a tiny first year who was trembling with fright, whose head barely passed Tempest's elbow, a sixth year who had his wand out like he would jinx Tempest if she refused…

Tempest was so shocked she rejected every single one of the boys, and then had to endure Hermione and Ginny's less than empathetic teasing about it.

It was getting to the point where she thought that she might as well ask someone that was fairly decent, and whom she knew, but they weren't many. There was Ron, and he was the easiest choice. She could as to go as friends, and then the problem would be solved- but then again, Ron hadn't even noticed her or Hermione were girls yet, (he constantly moaned about the subject of finding someone to go with when there were two perfectly illegible girls sitting beside him)and also, perhaps it was just instinct, but she imagined that Hermione wouldn't like it.

Speaking of which, Tempest knew Hermione didn't like Ron in that way yet… He wasn't mature enough… Call it a stupid girl's instinct, but she could see quite clearly that in sixth year, seventh year, them getting together, and Tempest didn't want to jeopardize that.

Hermione's words about Viktor Krum rang in Tempest's ears as she turned down another offer, this time a beater from the Hufflepuff team. "They only like him because he's famous! I bet they don't even know him…." Tempest doubted that if she hadn't been a champion, or if she hadn't been the 'Chosen One', they wouldn't have looked at her twice.

Overall though, Tempest had to admit, the ball business aside, life had been improving steadily after the first task. No one was teasing her in the corridors anymore, which she suspected might have been due to Cedric, and Cedric's friends, they might have spread the word that Tempest helped Cedric… something she was grateful for, but not something she had wanted, she had enough attention already. Even the Slytherins comments seemed less barbed, and Malfoy had gone strangely silent. He wasn't wearing the Support Cedric Diggory! badge anymore, even though Tempest noted that Pansy Parkinson was.

And just to make her feel even better, no article about Hagrid had appeared in the Daily Prophet.

"She didn' seem very int'rested in magical creatures, ter tell yeh the truth," Hagrid said, when Tempest, Ron and Hermione went to ask him how his interview with Skeeter had gone. They were gathered behind Hagrid's cabin, cutting up food for the Skrewts. Thankfully Hagrid had given up on direct contact with the Skrewts in event of another disastrous lesson.

"She jus' wanted me ter talk about you, Tempest," said Hagrid in a low voice, "Well, I told her we'd been friends since I went ter fetch yeh from the Dursleys. I didn' tell her about yeh living at Prof McGonagall's… Dumbledore said not to tell anyone- but she kept asking questions like: 'Never had to tell her off in four years?' she said, "Never played you up in lessons, has she?" I told her no, an you were a great student, but she didn' seem happy at all… Yeh'd think she wanted to say yeh were horrible Tempest."

"Of course she did," Tempest said, throwing lumps of chopped liver into a metal bowl and picking up her knife to cut some more. "She can't keep writing about how tragic and heroic I am, it'll get boring."

"She wants a new angle Hagrid," Ron said wisely, "You were meant to say Tempest's a mad hag."

"But she isn't!" said Hagrid, looking genuinely shocked.

Tempest laughed, then her face darkened. "If she had interviewed Snape, she'd have gotten a lifetime's worth of information she'd probably kill for.. 'Miss Potter 's determination to break rules is outstanding…'"

"Said that, did he?" said Hagrid while Ron and Hermione snickered.

Tempest shrugged sheepishly, "I might have added the end part, I interrupted him before he could finish…"

"Well, yeh might've bent a few rules Tempest, bu' yeh're all righ' really, aren' you?"

Tempest grinned at him. "Thanks Hagrid."

Ron exchanged some banter with Hagrid about him going to the ball, but Tempest cut the conversation off when it came to who she would be going with.

She didn't want to talk about that.

The last week of term became bedlam for Tempest, but in a good way. Some of the teachers, like Professor Flitwick, who Tempest quite liked, gave up teaching them when they were so distracted that more things ended up blown up in one hour than the usually did in a whole year; he let them play games instead in his lesson on Wednesday.

He spent most of the time talking to Tempest about the marvellous charms she had used, along with the Summoning Charm which had been- according to him- 'simply magnificent'.

The other teachers weren't so forgiving. Professor Binns, who hadn't let his own death deter him from teaching, wouldn't let a small thing like Christmas and the upcoming ball stand in his way of rattling on about goblin rebellions and the founding of Gringotts and whatnot.

Minnie and Professor Moody kept their noses to their books until the very last second, and Tempest expected no less, and of course, Snape would sooner have kissed a Blast Ended Skrewt than let they play games in his class.

He had glared around at them and told them nastily that he would be testing them on poison antidotes on the very last day and lesson of term.

Tempest didn't really mind, Potions seemed to come naturally to her, and Hermione had studied enough already to take three potions exams, but Ron obviously wasn't as well equipped.

"Evil, he is," Ron said bitterly that evening in the Gryffindor common room. "A test on the very last day. Ruining the last bit of term with studying."

"Yes, but Ron, if you had studied before, you wouldn't have to now." Hermione said over the top of her Potion's notes, all written out neatly.

"It's nearly Christmas Hermione," Tempest tried to placate her as she lay on the Gryffindor couch which everyone seemed to label as her own, because no one else ever sat on it, stroking Nyx. Crookshanks was in Hermione's lap, purring.

"I would have thought that you'd be doing something constructive too Tempest, even if you don't need to study!"

"Like?" asked Tempest, more distracted by Nyx's tail, which was flicking to and fro as the cat stared a feather which was floating down from the ceiling.

"Figuring out that egg!" Hermione hissed.

Tempest sighed, not really wanting to come out of the warm haze her mind had drifted off into. "Hermione, I've got till February 24th, and it's December right now."

"Yes but-"

Tempest sighed. She had put her egg in her trunk up in the girl's dormitories after the horrible incident in the common room when she had first opened the egg, and she had no desire to open it again.

Still, if it would make Hermione feel better…. "I'll… I'll go to the library then…"

Tempest stood, putting Nyx down, who didn't seem ruffled at all- she was too busy playing with the feather she had caught, and walked out of the portrait hole.

She didn't bother to bring the egg, she would just attract more attention by carrying it around. She could research the subject then work out the egg in the Gryffindor tower, where less people would be around. She didn't think Madam Pince would be very pleased if the screechy egg started wailing in her peaceful library.

As it was, Tempest didn't go to the library. She went halfway there, and then decided to go to the Owlery instead. She didn't have an owl, but she liked to hear the soft hooting and general chatter of the owls, and even though there were sometimes gale force winds blowing around, the Owlery was rather sheltered, and peaceful.

The narrow winding staircase meant that when going up, students had to walk single file, so when someone going down the staircase slammed into Tempest, she was surprised, but not necessarily shocked.

Except that it was Malfoy, and with an uncharacteristic gentlemanliness, he stepped aside to let Tempest go past.

"Thanks," Tempest muttered, stepping by him. She hadn't seen much of him lately, he was never with his thuggish friends- Crabbe and Goyle anymore, which surprised Tempest a little, because he usually liked to hide behind them whenever something threatening happened, and he seemed to be avoiding Pansy Parkinson. Something that Tempest considered very wise. He'd even been quiet in Potions, and she had seen him drawing-writing? In his book last lesson, instead of brewing his antidote.

Shoving the elusive thought of Malfoy to the back of her mind, Tempest concentrated on the steep stairs, wishing that she was on her broom right then, circling around the Quiddtich pitch, when a voice stopped her.

"Go to the ball with me?"

"I-" Tempest turned around and walked three steps down to stare at Malfoy, "I… _What?_"

Tempest couldn't read Malfoy's expression, it was a mixture of a strange apprehension, something that looked like he was regretting opening his mouth, and then something else Tempest couldn't place.

"Would you-" Malfoy cleared his throat, "-would you go to the ball with me?"

Tempest stared at him silently. If she hadn't just heard the words, she could have sworn someone had cast a _Confundus_ on her.

Malfoy- who had mocked her with his fellow Slytherins the whole term, Malfoy who had it out for her since First year, Malfoy who called her friends 'Mudbloods' and 'blood traitors', Malfoy how had hexed her in corridors, spreading rumours about her for years.

The wind howled around the tower, and yet to Tempest it could have been as silent as Snape's dungeon.

"You hate me and my friends," Tempest said rather blandly.

Malfoy seemed to chew on his words for a moment, "I did use to… _dislike_ you intensely," he said, then perhaps feeling it wasn't enough, he continued, "-and I was… a prat to your friends… And…" His face twisted like he had swallowed something he had rather not have. "-and I am… I might… Regret that."

Tempest looked at him trying just to see him as a person for a moment, not just the Slytherin git who she disliked almost as much as Professor Snape.

She did not see much that she liked- only a stuck up git who had tormented her and her friends from day one, whose father had almost gotten herself, Ginny and countless others killed, a prejudged git, someone who liked to torment others, a bully…

But he had apologized.

An apology didn't seem like enough to negate all of it, but Tempest, who knew how hard it was to put aside pride, knew how much it must have taken for him to say the words, even if it wasn't a proper apology at all. But the words had been genuine, she could tell.

"Why?" she asked finally, wondering whether she was asking for herself, or for him. "Don't you have… Pansy?"

Malfoy's face twisted again. "Parkinson… No. I actually can't stand her…"

"But why?"

Malfoy had blue eyes, Tempest noted as he met hers. It wasn't one of those ridiculous moments that Tempest had read about in Lavender's romance novels, it was more of… an understanding? "I don't know." He said plainly.

"Is this a hoax?"

"No."

He wasn't lying.

"Alright."

Tempest wasn't sure why exactly the words came out of her mouth, after all, she had turned down so many boys without thinking, and now she was going to the ball with _Malfoy?_ Somehow though, she didn't regret the words.

Malfoy looked almost as surprised as Tempest felt. "Oh, alright then. Um… I'll see you."

Tempest nodded, and he turned back to continue walking down the stairs.

"Wait!" Tempest called suddenly, wanting to say something else- maybe tell Malfoy to apologize to her friends at least for insulting them so many times perhaps, but it just seemed wrong to do. If she asked him, and he did (not saying that he would), he wouldn't mean it, and it was pointless.

"My friends call me Tempest." Said Tempest.

Malfoy stopped, turning slowly. He gave Tempest a searching look, then replied. "Call me Draco."

And Tempest realized, rather distractedly, that Draco, was one or two centimetres taller than her.

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest didn't go to the Owlery after all. She remained standing there for several minutes (or was it seconds? She couldn't tell,) and then she set off, back down to the Gryffindor Common room.

She didn't know how they would react to her agreeing to go with _Malfoy _ of all people, so eventually she just decided not to tell them.

Stepping through the Fat Lady, she found Hermione and Ron talking to Fred and George.

"Oy! Angelina!"

Angelina, who had been chatting with Alicia Spinnet by the fire looked over at him.

"What?"

"Want to come to the ball with me?"

Tempest choked back a laugh as she sat. "What did I miss?" she whispered to Hermione.

"Fred and George wanted to borrow Pigwidgeon, and then they started asking about dress robes or something? In any case, now Fred's asking Angelina to the ball."

Angelina gave Fred an appraising sort of look. "Alright." She said finally, and resuming talking to Alicia, blushing slightly.

"There you go!" Fred grinned, turning back to Ron, "Piece of cake."

He got up, groaning theatrically. "Guess we'll have to ask Ginny to borrow her owl… See you later!"

Ron huffed. "He's right though, I'd better get a move on, ask someone… I don't want to get stuck with a trolls."

Tempest was more offended for Hermione than for herself- she didn't mind that much, but… Ron was just so… _stupid_ sometimes.

Hermione spluttered with indignation. "A… _what_ exactly?"

"You know," Ron shrugged, "I'd rather go alone as a bachelor than with… Say Eloise Midgen…"

"Her acne's loads better lately- and she's really nice!"

"Her nose is off centre," said Ron.

At that point, Tempest badly wanted to intervene, on Hermione's side obviously- couldn't Ron see how cutting and callous he was being?

"Oh I see," Hermione said, bristling. "So basically, you're going to take the best looking girl who'll have you, even if she's completely horrible?"

"Er- yeah, that sounds about right," said Ron.

Tempest stood at that, grabbing Hermione's arm. "Then you'd best be going with Moaning Mytle Ronald, as she's the only one who'd go with _you_." She snapped. "Now, we're going to bed."

She turned on her heel and stormed off, following Hermione.

~Y.-.Y~

The Hogwarts staff, demonstrating a continued desire to impress the visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, seemed determined to show the castle at its best this Christmas. When the decorations went up, Tempest noticed that they were the most stunning he had yet seen inside the school. Everlasting icicles were attacked to the banisters of the marble staircase, and the usual twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall were bedecked with everything from luminous holly berries to real, hooting, golden owls.

Ron still was being a dull obtuse blockhead, and even though Tempest and Hermione were avoiding him, he didn't seem to notice at all, usually talking to Dean and Seamus about the pros and cons of the still legible girls. Everyone but her and Hermione.

She was distracted for most of the time, fussing over Hermione and Ron's problem, but also her own with Malfoy. It seemed that he was serious, as she hadn't seen him near Pansy for at least a week, or with any other girls for that matter, even though he didn't seem to have told anyone who he was going with. Tempest didn't know how to tell people she was going with the Slytherin Prince Draco Malfoy either, and therefore- as she hadn't, the invites to go to the ball kept pouring in.

The most awkward rejection she had to issue was Cedric Diggory.

He had approached her after History of Magic, and Tempest, who was half asleep hadn't realized he was talking to her until he waved a hand in front of her face.

"Hi Tempest." He had said, smiling charmingly.

"Oh, hi, sorry," she had replied, "just… History of Magic… you know…"

He had laughed, "Yeah… So, I was wondering, because we're both Hogwarts champions, I was wondering, if you'd go to the ball with me?"

Tempest had stopped, shocked. She should say yes. After all, it did make sense- after all, Cedric was _very_ handsome, and even Tempest who never went around swooning after boys had to admit that, and they _were_ both champions, and no-one would question it…. After all, Malfoy wouldn't mind that much if she told him she couldn't go with him… would he?

But for some reason, she found herself saying no. Her mouth had been saying the words before he brain had caught up with them, and when she had realized what she had said, she realized she wasn't sad about not going to the ball with Cedric. Not really.

It wasn't that she didn't like Cedric, she actually did, and she had started considering him one of her friends even. Only… she didn't want to go to the ball with him.

"Why not?" he had said, frowning slightly, not looking put out, but curious.

"Well…" and Tempest had struggled for words, to not make it insulting, "Well… I'm already going with someone else… And well…"

"Oh? Who?" Cedric had asked.

"Um… I haven't really told people yet," Tempest had said awkwardly.

"Oh, alright." Cedric didn't sound sceptical, but he didn't sound like he believed Tempest either.

"And besides… I wouldn't want to hurt Cho's feelings," Tempest had said, trying to alleviate the harm. Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw seeker who she had played in third year did like Cedric, she had heard her talking once in the girl's bathroom, wondering whether or not he was going to ask her out. She might as well give Cedric a nudge in the right direction.

"Oh!" Cedric said, like a blind man who had just discovered how to see. "Oh! No problem then! I'll see you Tempest!"

And then he had set off down the corridor with a rigidly determined expression on his face.

Tempest had her potions test next, but she had been staring at Malfoy's back for most of it that for the second time that term she had done something wrong and scored low marks. Perhaps Malfoy had been distracted about something else too, because as Snape collected in the written theory for the test, Malfoy had looked like he was about to protest, and left the dungeon immediately.

Tempest climbed through the portrait hole that night to find Ron sitting by the fire looking like he had swallowed Tempest's hedgehog. Ginny was by him, looking like she was unsuccessfully trying to comfort him.

"What's wrong?" asked Tempest, putting aside her grudge for the time being.

Ron looked up with a sort of blind horror in his face.

"Why did I do it? I don't know what made me do it!" He said wildly, grasping at invisible straws.

"Do what?" asked Tempest, becoming genuinely concerned.

Ron slumped down and Ginny, seeing Ron was obviously incapable of speech anymore decided to reply for him. "He- er- just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him," Said Ginny. She looked like she was trying to fight back her laughter, but she kept patting Ron's arm sympathetically.

Some dark part of Tempest was telling her that it served Ron right for being so mean to Hermione, and the other was feeling just a tiny bit sorry for him.

"Oh." She said.

Ron seemed to regain the power of speech then, "I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped again, "What was I playing at? There were people- all around- I've gone mad-everyone was watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall- she was standing there talking to Diggory- and it sort of came over me- and I asked her!"

Ron moaned and put his head in his hands, but he kept talking, the words muffled through his hands. "She just looked at me like I was a Blast Ended Skrewt or something… didn't even answer… and then- I dunno- I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."

Tempest frowned. She wasn't quite as close to Fleur, but from what little Tempest knew of the girl, she didn't seem the kind to be that cruel…. But then maybe it was just Ron's imagination…

"She is part veela," Tempest said slowly, "she might have been trying to charm Cedric, it's just a friendly joke, they've done it before…"

Ron looked up, "What? So Fleur was trying to go to the ball with Diggory?"

Tempest shook her head. "No. Fleur's going with Rodger Davis, the captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, and Cedric… I think he's going with Cho Chang."

"Oh." Ron seemed slightly comforted, even though Tempest didn't remember saying anything remotely reassuring. "Well… Wait… How'd you know?"

"Well… Fleur told me she was going with Davis a while ago, and well… Cedric asked me to the ball, and I told him to take Cho, because I know she likes him…"

Ron frowned like he was missing something, then just muttered, "oh." Then he brightened. "Well at least I won't be the only one to go alone… Neville, he asked Hermione!"

Tempest's head jerked up, "What?" She didn't see Hermione with Neville somehow…

"Yeah, I know!" said Ron, some of the colour coming back into his face as he started to laugh. "He told me after Potions! Said she's always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff – but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn't want to go with Neville … I mean, who would?"

Ginny was opening her mouth, but Tempest got there first. "Ron! Neville's perfectly fine! And Hermione wouldn't have said she was going with someone else, _unless_ she was going with someone else!"

Just then the portrait hole opened, and Hermione climbed in. "Why weren't you two at dinner?" she asked, walking over to them.

"Well, because Ron just got turned down by a girl, and Tempest turned down Cedric Diggory…"

That shut Ron up.

"Thanks a bunch, Ginny," Ron said sourly.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" Hermione said loftily, and Tempest silently cheered her on. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, sorry, she's taken. I'm sure we'll find someone somewhere who'll have you…. Have you been considering Myrtle?"

Suddenly Ron, who had been staring rather vaguely at Tempest blinked as though a veil had been lifted. "Wait a second… Cedric was right! -you are a girl Tempest!"

Tempest gapped at him, both insulted and horror struck beyond belief. She knew that she was hardly the typical girl (that was Lavender after all) but she was still a _female_! And the fact that he had just completely ignored Hermione….

"Yes. I am." Tempest said frigidly.

"Well you can go with me! This is perfect, I mean, you're a champion aren't you? So you _need _a partner!"

"Actually Ron, I can't." Tempest snapped.

"Oh come on, you need a partner, and I'll look stupid if I go without anyone because everyone else has…"

"I can't go with you Ron!" almost yelled Tempest, "For goodness sakes, I'm already going with someone else who _has_ realized that I am a girl!"

"Oh," Ron said, and then not even taking the time to process the information, he asked, "Who?"

"It's none of your business," Tempest snapped back.

Ron stared at her for a few more seconds, and then he shrugged. "Okay, whatever," obviously not believing her. Then he blinked at the _other_ girl in the room who wasn't his sister. "Hermione! You're a girl too! Neville was right-"

"Oh, well spotted," Hermione said in a voice that could have made Snape himself shrink back.

"Then you can go with me!"

"I can't." said Hermione coldly.

"Oh come on, not you too! I guess it's alright for Tempest to lie about having a partner but for you that's just-"

Tempest took an involuntary step forward, was Ron _that_ deluded? Just because _he_ was that blockheaded, didn't mean that everyone else was….

"I _am_ already going with someone!" Hermione said, her face flushing with anger, "Just because it took you three years to realize Tempest and me are girls doesn't mean no-one else has!"

Ron stared at the both of them. Then he grinned again. "Okay, okay, I know both of you are girls, now will that do? Will one of you go with me?"

"We've already _told_ you!" Tempest said angrily, "both of us have someone Ronald, and neither of us are going to hang around like we need you to rescue us from going to the ball alone!"

And once again the two of them stormed up to the girl's dormitories.

Tempest flung herself down on her bed, glaring at the celling. Nyx purred by her feet, but for once, Tempest didn't find it comforting. Hermione didn't seem to be relaxed by Crookshanks either.

Eventually when Hermione seemed to have calmed down, she asked, "Who _are_ you going with Tempest?"

Tempest rolled over to look at Hermione. "Promise you won't tell anyone?" she asked.

Hermione gave her a searching glance then a nod. "Promise."

"Well… I didn't want to tell anyone, because, well… they might not take it too well… But…"

"Tempest, just spit it out!"

"Draco Malfoy."

Hermione merely stared at Tempest for what seemed like an age, and Tempest was starting to worry that Hermione would be hurt by the fact that Tempest had decided to go with someone who had called Hermione 'mudblood' for years.

"Viktor Krum."

The two stared at each other, but Tempest found her voice first. "Viktor… Krum? Wow… Hermione!"

Hermione shrugged sheepishly, "He asked me in the library… He was actually quite charming..."

Tempest grinned as she watched Hermione blush. "That's great! Well now we know why he kept going there…"

Hermione smiled, and it struck Tempest then how different she looked… "Hermione- your teeth…"

Hermione smiled again, and this time it was almost cheeky. "You didn't think I was going to keep those fangs that Malfoy gave me did you? I just let Madam Pomfrey shrink them down a bit more than usual so they're normal sized…"

Hermione trailed off as she realized what she had said.

Tempest looked down at Nyx. _Should_ she have said yes to Malfoy? It kept on seeming like a worse and worse decision as time went on, but she couldn't seem to _want_ to turn him down. What was wrong with her? She didn't know he had changed… For all she knew, he could be pulling her on, making so that at the last minute she had no-one, and then he would dump her and she would be humiliated in front of the whole school….

"You know Tempest… I know I should be telling you to drop him, as a Gryffindor- and after everything he's done to me… But, you know, he apologized to me just now."

"What?" Tempest asked, looking up.

"Malfoy… He apologized to me formally right after dinner on my way up. I didn't know what he wanted, but he walked straight up to me, said he was sorry for everything he'd done to me in the past three years, and then offered me his hand to shake."

"He… he did?" Tempest said slowly. Was Malfoy… Apologizing? She hadn't asked him to… And neither did she have any proof, but she had a nagging suspicion that he was doing it for her. To make up for the years of bullying? It didn't seem like him at all. And shaking Hermione's hand?

"Well," Tempest said, giving Hermione a wry smile. "I guess when Ron finds out who we're going to the ball with, he won't be best pleased."

Hermione laughed, and threw a pillow at Tempest. "Understatement."

~Y.-.Y~

Snape was marking the written theory from the previous Slytherin and Gryffindor class, and to his disgust, half had failed, and Tempest _Potter_ who usually preformed… (and it killed him to say it)…outstandingly, had made silly mistakes as though she had been distracted for most of the lesson. Even _Hermione Granger_ who always got top grades had slipped down one or two marks. And most disappointing of all was Draco Malfoy's. The boy had given in a blank piece of parchment.

It was odd, mostly because the boy- his godson- had always put most of his effort into his head of house's lesson, and this time he had not even tired.

Snape rather reluctantly wrote a F on the top of the sheet, and then turned it over to place back in the pile.

He froze.

The reverse side wasn't blank at all.

It was a sketch- no- a portrait of a face. And not only just a face, but a particular face.

What on earth was Draco doing by drawing Tempest Potter's face during a potions test?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Nine: The Yule Ball

Hermione and Tempest were on speaking terms with Ron, but that was it really. The git didn't seem to realize he had said anything out of line at all, and thought the _girls_ were the ones overreacting.

Needless to say, those speaking terms had become very strained.

However, if the two were not as keen for Ron's company, they seemed to have become glued to Fred and George. While Hermione was still grumbling over their immaturity, she was lightening up, and becoming fascinated by their products. She thought the uses were childish, but it didn't stop her from marvelling over the theory and complexity of the magic, so that sometimes, Tempest had to drag her away from Fred and George to break up their conversations about tying charms to inanimate objects.

The twins had been delighted when they discovered Tempest had a rather roughish, reckless streak, and a passionate love of a good prank.

So it was no surprise that all over the school, people kept on bursting into feather, whether it was one of the teachers up at the staff table in the Great Hall, or down in the library to Madam Pince's great disapproval. Soon, people began to learn never to accept food given to them by Fred, George, Tempest or even Hermione.

It was like they had made Tempest and Hermione their co-partners in their enterprise, Hermione was the brains, and she knew the most charms and spells, Tempest was the devious one, coming up with the ideas and strategies on when and where to stage the next prank, and Fred and George were the producers and executors of the pranks.

If someone had told Tempest a month ago that Hermione was willingly (and enjoying it,) helping Fred and George to plan a prank to coat the entire interior of the staff room a vivid pink, Tempest would have laughed in their face. However, that was what Hermione and Tempest were doing, and they couldn't wait to see the effects. Unfortunately, none of them wanted to get detention for the Yule Ball, and therefore they were going to wait until after Christmas to execute it.

It was snowing now, and seen from a distance, Hogwarts looked postcard perfect in Tempest's opinion. The Beauxbatons carriage looked like a large frosted pumpkin next to the iced gingerbread house that was Hagrid's cabin. The Durmstrang ship's portholes were iced over, and the rigging was white with frost.

Hermione and Tempest were in the entrance hall when Ron ran up to them, not seeming to notice the less than welcoming looks from the girls. "Hermione, Tempest, who are you going to the ball with?"

Tempest rolled her eyes. It seemed that Ron had finally caught on that the both of them _did_ have someone to go to the ball with, and he had kept on springing the question in the middle of conversations, trying to startle the two into telling him.

"None of your business Ron," Hermione sighed, as the three kept walking up the marble staircase from the Great Hall. "You'll find out on the day…"

They were halfway up the stairs when they saw Pigwidgeon twittering madly on top of the icicle –laden banisters, a scroll of parchment tied to his leg. People were laughing as they passed the owl, and pointing. A group of third-year girls paused and said, "Oh look at the weeny owl! Isn't he cute?"

"Stupid little feathery git!" Ron hissed, which made Tempest and Hermione laugh against their will, and they followed Ron as he ran up a few steps to snatch up Pigwidgeon.

"You bring letters to the addressee! You don't hang around showing off!"

Tempest snorted with laughter as Pigwidgeon hooted happily, his head protruding over Ron's fist. The third years looked shocked as their eyes followed the path of the bird in Ron's fist.

"Clear off!" Ron snapped at them, waving the fist holding Pig, who hooted even more happily than ever as he was carried through the air. Sirius really had given Ron a demented owl.

"Here- take them, Tempest," Ron said in an undertone as the third-years ran off looking scandalized. Tempest noticed that there were two rolls or parchment attached to Pig's leg, both Remus and Sirius's replies she thought. He pulled the parchment off Pig's leg, Tempest pocketed it, and the three hurried back to Gryffindor Tower to read it.

Everyone in the common room was too busy gawking over something Fred and George had made, and paid the three no attention as they settled by a window that was gradually filling up with snow.

Tempest decided for a moment to ignore her grudge with Ron just for the sake of reading Sirius and Remus's replies.

_Dear Prongslette:_

_Congratulations on getting past the Horntail! Whoever put your name in that goblet shouldn't be feeling too happy right now! Your method was brilliant, I know your parents would be proud- I am, you should enjoy your long break until the next task._

_Don't get complacent though Tempest, you've only done one task, whoever put you in for the tournament's got plenty of time to have another opportunity if they're trying to hurt you._

_Keep me posted Tempest, you'll do brilliantly._

_Padfoot._

_P.S- I did hear you were injured, and __**please**__ be more careful Prongslette! I'm not out of Azkaban and being reunited with my god-daughter, only to have her die on me!_

Tempest put aside Sirius's letter, grinning at the salutation- Sirius had called her that only once before, Third Year, right before Remus had turned into Moony and tried to kill them…

_Dear Tempest:_

_I was astounded by your performance in the First Task, and I saw a photo of you flying in the Prophet (don't worry, it wasn't Skeeter who wrote it,) you fly as well as your father did Tempest, I want you to know that._

_I wish I was there with you at Hogwarts, to unravel the mystery of your name in the Goblet, you as I am not, I can only tell you to go to Dumbledore if anything remotely threatening happens to you, or anyone close to you. He's a great wizard._

_Keep your eyes open though Tempest, you still have two tasks to go, and then you're safe. It is good hearing from you Tempest._

_Remus._

…**you fly as well as your father did Tempest, I want you to know that.**

Tempest felt a flare of pride, and hiding it with a quick smile at the other two, she spoke; "So, what d'you think?"

"Well, both of them told you roughly the same thing… don't relax too much and let your guard down… they're right, you still have two tasks to go, and therefore lots more chances of getting.. well, injured like you did before, only… not recovering."

"They sound a bit like Moody, 'Constant Vigilance!' and that… You'd think I walk around _trying_ to get into trouble…"

"More like _falling _into trouble Tempest!" Ron laughed.

"Yes, but they're right aren't they?" Hermione said, "I mean you still do have two tasks, and you aren't any closer to figuring out that egg…"

Tempest shrugged half-heartedly, "I'll get to work on it… but Hermione! Let's just enjoy the break for a few days more, alright?"

Hermione agreed, rather reluctantly it had to be admitted, but she did agree, and the three merely sat there for a moment, smiling slightly, and Tempest even decided to forget her grudge against Ron completely.

"Hey, Tempest, Hermione, who're you going to the ball with?"

"_Ron!_"

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest always slept on her front, sprawled out, and didn't move an inch until she woke up in the morning. Perhaps it had been because of years of living with the Dursleys, and having a narrow cot that only let her lie relatively comfortably on it in one particular position, and if she moved just one millimetre, she would end up with something hard poking into her, hence after years it had become a habit to lie stone still when asleep, something that freaked Hermione out the first time in First year.

Therefore, on Christmas morning, when Tempest woke up, she was very aware of someone _standing on her back_.

With a garbled exclamation Tempest rolled over, shoving whatever was on her back off, and coming face to face with a pair of huge luminous eyes which belonged to…

"Dobby!" Tempest yelled, as Nyx (who had been curled up comfortably on Tempest's feet) hissed, and Tempest grabbed handfuls of her blankets, drawing them up around her. "These are the girl's dorms!"

Dobby blinked at Tempest, looking appropriately penitent. "Dobby is sorry, miss!" Dobby squeaked, hopping backwards, his long fingers clutching at something behind his back. "Dobby only was wanting to wish Tempest Potter a 'Merry Christmas' and give her a present miss! Tempest Potter did say Dobby could come and see her sometimes, miss!"

Tempest swallowed, and blinked several times, her eyes adjusting to the near pitch black darkness. "No, Dobby its fine… Just, poke me or something… Don't stand on my back…"

Tempest pulled open the curtains around his four poster, and saw Hermione, Lavender and Pravati sitting up and rubbing at their eyes, having been woken at her yell. They peered at her and Dobby through their own hangings around their beds. "You alright Tempest?" asked Hermione, "Hello Dobby."

"I'm fine Hermione, you can go back to sleep," Tempest muttered, rubbing at her eyes, and shoving her shaggy hair roughly out of her eyes.

Lavender mumbled something, and then fell facedown back into her pillow, while Hermione and Pravati decided to get up and start opening presents.

Tempest turned back to Dobby, who was still standing awkwardly on Tempest's bed, looking worried that he had upset Tempest.

"Can Dobby give Tempest Potter her present?" he squeaked tentatively.

"Of course you can!" Tempest said, "Me and Hermione got you something too…"

This was actually true, as after they had been to see Dobby, the pair of them had remembered him on a trip to Hogsmeade, and had bought him a beanie which changed colours according to the wearer's mood, and a nice pair of bright red socks.

Tempest fished the package out from underneath her bed, and gave it to Dobby. "We got it for you together, we hope you like it…"

Hermione had come over, her hair sticking up all around her face, smiling at Dobby, and the two of them watched him open the present.

Dobby was delighted. "Socks are Dobby's favourite clothes! And Dobby had never had a proper wizard's hat miss!" He pulled off his mismatched socks at once, and pulled on the new ones, cramming the beanie over his long bat-ears, smiling happily.

Hermione returned to her bed, and was beginning to unwrap her presents too, only to be interrupted as Dobby almost charged her, grabbing her hands and bowing with them repeatedly. "Miss is too kind," his eyes brimming with tears, bowing again and again, "Dobby knew Miss must be a great witch, for she is Tempest Potter's greatest friend, but Dobby did not know she was as kind, as generous of spirit, as noble, as selfless…"

"Oh Dobby, I was happy to!" Hermione said, becoming pink, even though she looked pleased. "And wow- Tempest! This is amazing!" She had just opened Tempest's present, and it was a rather large globe, not as big as the crystal balls in Divination, but close- it was filled with a cloudy smoke, but as Hermione held it, the smoke formed figures, until it was her, Tempest and Ron, laughing together by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, and then it shifted to her and Tempest sitting together with Hagrid, having tea at his cabin, then it was the Weasleys, Tempest and Hermione, all six of them sitting at the Great Hall chatting, then it was Ron and Hermione cheering on in the Quiddtich stands… then it faded back into white smoke. "How did you manage to charm the memories into it?"

Tempest grinned at her. "That would be giving away the secret wouldn't it then? I'm glad you like it."

Hermione sniffed, then flung herself at Tempest, and hugged her. "Thank you!"

When Hermione had returned to unwrapping presents, Dobby handed Tempest a small package, which Tempest unwrapped, which turned out to be- socks.

"Dobby is making them himself, miss!" the elf said happily. "He is buying the wool out of his wages miss!"

Tempest was touched that Dobby had used his money and time to make _her_ socks, and she instantly pulled them on, (they were very warm and comfortable) the left sock having an imprint of green hedgehogs, and the right sock having an imprint of a dark tabby cat. Jr and Nyx.

"Thank you Dobby, they're great!" Tempest said, causing Dobby's eyes to leak with happiness again.

"Dobby must go now, miss, we is already making Christmas dinner in the kitchens!" said Dobby, and he hurried out of the girl's dormitory, waving goodbye to Hermione and the others as he passed.

Tempest decided to unwrap her other presents, seeing as she was already awake, and was surprised to see the size of that year's pile.

She had gotten a huge bag of Zonko's products from Fred and George, along with some of their prototypes of new joke shop products, a beautiful snow-globe with a miniature model of Hogsmeade inside, which could zoom in and see all the tiny people on the street from Ginny, a book on Quidditch throughout the ages from Ron, a huge box of sweets from Honeydukes from Hagrid, a thick book called Transfiguration of mammals for dummies, that Tempest knew was from Minnie because of the other book that accompanied it, which was a book on how to care for Hedgehogs. Sirius had given her a pocket knife with what seemed like thousands of attachments that could open any lock to undo any knot. She also received a new pair of dragon-skin gloves from Hermione and a book on dragons, a box of sugar-free muggle sweets from Hermione's parents, and Mrs Weasley's usual package, with a new knitted sweater (it was green, with a picture of a dragon on it- Tempest assumed Charlie had told her all about the Horntail,) and a large amount of homemade mince pies.

Tempest pulled the last present from the wrapping paper, and there was a soft tinkle as a slender gold chain fell into her lap with a golden Snitch threaded through it. Tempest smiled slightly, and pulled the small card that came with it.

_Dear Tempest:_

_I was hunting around my apartment (I'm moving by the way) and I found that Snitch. James stole it fifth year, and I thought you might like it. It will mean more to you than to me._

_Merry Christmas._

_-Moony._

Tempest placed the card carefully in her dresser with his and Sirius's letters, then slipped on the necklace. She also pulled on the sweater from Mrs Weasley, finding it to be just as warm as Dobby's socks, and then, with Hermione, the pair went down to the common room to meet with Ron, Ginny and the twins.

They went down to breakfast together, then spent most of the morning in Gryffindor Tower, where everyone was enjoying their presents, then went back to the Great Hall for a magnificent lunch, which included at least a hundred turkeys and Christmas puddings, and large piles of Cribbage's Wizarding Crackers.

In the afternoon, the six went out to the grounds, (Tempest, Fred and George bringing their brooms), and had a magnificent snowball fight, using both their wands and brooms for a magical and height advantage.

Tempest was obviously best in the air, although once on the ground, she was flattened under the combined onslaught of Hermione, George and Ginny.

At five o'clock though Hermione said she was going back upstairs to get ready for the ball.

Tempest decided to go with her. After all, now that she thought about it, she had no idea how to wear those dress robes that Minnie had bought her, and neither did she think her messy hair would look very good.

Ron had complained incredulously that they needed _three hours?_ But the pair merely waved back at him. Ron was going to the ball with Luna Lovegood, (Ginny must have taken pity on him and asked her for him,) and he didn't seem to be in any hurry to get changed, which Tempest thought was rather mean of him.

The two reached their dormitories, and just then, it hit Tempest that she was going to a _ball_, in _dress robes_, to _dance_, and all of that with _Draco Malfoy._

Tempest hadn't realized she had started hyperventilating until she found herself sitting on her bed with Hermione rubbing her back soothingly. "C'mon Tempest, it's not going to be that hard… I'll help you get ready!"

Tempest looked at Hermione with undisguised gratitude. "_Thank_ you Hermione."

It turned out very well that they both had each other to help themselves. They had decided to manage their hair first- to turn Hermione's bushy hair into a sleek sheet with a slight curl, and to somehow turn Tempest's wild mop into soft waves.

It took an hour and a half, excessive use of some of Lavender's extra-strength shampoo and conditioner, gallons of water, and what seemed like a thousand brushings to achieve the desired effect.

Exhausted already, even though only half the work was done, the pair rested for five minutes, then resumed, this time with their dress robes.

Examining them, Tempest thought that they resembled actual dresses more than dress robes. Hers were a sort of shimmery light blue, almost silver, deepening to a darker shade near the thighs. It was strapless, which worried Tempest, and she winced as she imagined herself wearing it.

Hermione's was also a very pale shade of blue, but with short floaty sleeves, and for a moment, the two girls merely stared at them.

"Hermione- I'm doomed," said Tempest.

Hermione opened her mouth as though about to say something placating, then she merely shook her head. "So am I, Tempest, so am I."

Somehow, with some manoeuvring, Tempest managed to slide into her dress, smoothing out the edges and slipping into a pair of heels that she had borrowed from Pravati. She helped Hermione with her own, and then the two fourteen year old adolescents stood in front of the full length mirror in the bathroom, stunned.

"Hermione…"

"Tempest-"

Tempest waved a hand cautiously at the person in the mirror, and was almost surprised when the person copied her. So it wasn't just a hallucination. It was actually her in the mirror.

The girl opposite her in the mirror was the same… but not. The girl had raven black hair which was loose and that flowed down her shoulders in soft waves, ending somewhere halfway down the girl's exposed shoulder blades, the roughly cut edges somehow managed to look stylish and professional, and there was a bit of silver twisted in her hair to keep it out of her eyes. The dress flowed down the girl's body like a waterfall, light and floaty near the ankles, just brushing the floor slightly, and with the high-heels, the girl wasn't so lanky and tall, but elegant and poised. The girl was only wearing a hint of muggle mascara, so her eyes were especially visible, green and gleaming with excitement. The faint white scar which traced down her the side of her face was barely visible.

The girl who stood next to the first was just as magnificent. She had shining chestnut hair which was twisted elegantly up in a knot, wearing a light blue dress, which floated down in layers, flaring out subtly at the ankles.

"Wow." Tempest managed.

"I… Yes." Hermione was for once at a loss for words.

They kept staring for a moment, and then Tempest had to turn away, as if it was a dream, and if she kept looking, she would wake up. "Thank you… so much Hermione!" Tempest breathed reverently, wanting to hug her, but not wanting to mess up the dresses.

Hermione had no such restraints, and gave Tempest a crushing hug. "Thank _you_ Tempest… Without you, I'd have…"

"Yeah." Tempest said.

As the two of them prepared to go down into the entrance hall, Tempest found herself nervous again. Hermione would be meeting Krum, and she would be meeting Malfoy….

And then they were at the top of the marble staircase, and walking down together, and Tempest had never been so glad in her life to be beside Hermione before as the people in the entrance hall gawked at them, apparently not recognizing who they were.

"You know," Tempest said from the corner of her mouth (the stairs seemed very long right then,) "I thought you wouldn't like the idea of me going with Malf- Draco."

Hermione paused slightly, "Well, to be honest Tempest, I didn't think I would either… But I know you, and even though you are a bit rash sometimes, I trust your judgement… After all, Malfoy wouldn't have apologized to me for no reason would he? In any case, I'm not the one going with him- you are!"

Tempest laughed nervously. "Thanks Hermione…"

And then she saw Draco at the bottom of the stairs, and she could have stood there and gapped at him, or rather the expression on his face.

Because the boy didn't _look_ like Malfoy, after all, Malfoy didn't stare at Tempest like that- he didn't gape openly with an expression of amazement and… reverence?

And then Tempest and Hermione reached the bottom of the stairs, and then she was face to face with Draco, even as Hermione met Krum, who was standing beside Draco.

"Um, hi." Tempest said. She could hear Hermione greeting Krum in the same way.

"Hi," said Malfoy rather stiffly, as if he was trying to regain his composure, only to ruin it by almost choking on his next words. "You look… nice."

"Thank you," Tempest replied, "so do you."

She wasn't just being polite- after all, Malfoy _was_ rather handsome… He had aristocratic features, ice blue eyes, and high cheekbones, tall… and he wore his black dress robes very nicely.

They were saved from having to say anything else when Tempest heard Minnie's voice calling, "Champions over here, please!"

"Um," Tempest said to Malfoy, but he seemed to understand, he they followed Krum and Hermione to where Minnie was standing, wearing dress robes of red tartan. As she and Malfoy reached her, Tempest thought she even saw a glint of tears in Minnie's eyes as she saw her, and then as her eyes fell on who was standing beside Tempest, she barely concealed her shock to tell the champions and their partners to stand to one side of the door while everyone else went inside and was seated.

Fleur and Roger Davis were standing nearest to the door, next was Cedric and Cho, and then Krum and Hermione- who was smiling nervously, and then her and Malfoy.

People who were passing by were gapping openly at Hermione, then Tempest, and then stopping dead- only to be pushed forwards by the crowd- when they saw who Tempest was with.

Pansy Parkinson, who was walking by next to a Slytherin boy that Tempest didn't recognise, was glaring at her heatedly, however, seeming to shrink back when Tempest met her eyes.

Ron however, walked past the them as if they were invisible, Luna smiling happily at his side, seeming oblivious to her partner's mood.

Once everyone else was seated in the Hall, Minnie told them to get in line in pairs and to follow her.

They did so, and Tempest couldn't help smiling slightly as she wondered at everyone's reactions, It was hardly funny…. But still. Everyone applauded as they entered and walked up towards a large round table at the top of the Hall where the judges were sitting. Tempest heard the whispers above the clapping as she, Hermione and Malfoy passed by. She couldn't hear the exact words, and she was thankful for that.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished, and instead there were about a hundred smaller lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

Tempest had to concentrate on not tripping, as the silly heels were annoying. She was actually grateful that she had Malfoy's arm to grip, something she would never have believed herself for thinking.

Tempest saw Ron and Luna seated at a table, and while Ron glared at her and Malfoy, his expression darkening even further when he looked at Hermione and Krum.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, even though his eyes flickered slightly in surprise when he saw Malfoy, while Karkaroff wore an expression rather like Ron's as he watched Hermione and Krum draw nearer. Ludo Bagman was wearing bright purple robes with large yellow stars, and he was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students, Madame Maxime, who was wearing a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding politely, but Mr Crouch, Tempest realized, wasn't there, Percy Weasley was seated in the fifth seat.

When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Tempest. Tempest took the hint and sat down next to Percy, who was wearing brand-new, navy-blue dress robes and an expression of such smugness (it wavered slightly as he looked at Malfoy), that Tempest though it should be fined.

"Hello Tempest… Malfoy," said Percy.

"Hello Percy," Tempest said smiling, hopefully diffusing tension, not that it was working very well. She prayed Malfoy would take the hint and be polite…

"Weasley," said Malfoy neutrally, and Tempest could have hugged him.

They sat down, and then Percy, after shooting Malfoy a wary look, instantly turned to Tempest. "I've been promoted! I'm now Mr Crouch's personal assistant, and I'm here representing him."

"Oh, that's great Percy!" Tempest said, "Why didn't he come though?"

Percy seemed pleased with the response, because he burst into speech. "I'm afraid to say Mr Crouch isn't well, not well at all. He hasn't been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising- overwork. He's not as young as he was- though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry-"

Tempest decided to ignore the pointed look Percy shot Malfoy, and kept her eyes on the third Weasley boy.

"-and then Mr Crouch suffered a great personal shock with the misbehaviour of that house-elf of his, Blinky, or whatever she was called."

"Winky," Tempest cut in, knowing if it was Hermione, she would have burst into a rant about house elves.

"Yes, that… In any case, he dismissed her afterward of course, but- well, as I say, he's getting on, needs looking after, and I think he's found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with- that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around-"

Tempest agreed full heartedly with that statement.

"-no, poor man, he's having a well-earned, quiet Christmas. I'm glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place."

Tempest wanted to ask whether Mr Crouch had stopped calling Percy 'Weatherby' yet, but decided not to. After all, excusing his obsession with Mr Crouch, he did seem genuinely worried for the man.

As Percy turned to talk to Madame Maxime- something about safety regulations of her flying horses and gigantic carriage, Tempest looked up and saw Hermione in an animated conversation with Krum, and it occurred to her that she had said barely anything to Malfoy.

She turned to look at him, and was unnerved to see he was already staring at her. Tempest struggled to think of a topic to talk about, and flung her hopes on one.

"So, I suppose we got off on the wrong foot at the Quidditch Word Cup, but what did you think of the game?"

Tempest knew it was awkward, seeing as the star of that match was sitting two seats away from then, and that it was Malfoy's father who had ruined the whole game for her afterward, but she assumed Quiddtich was something they both loved enough to have a decent conversation about.

To her relief, Malfoy caught on. "Well the flying was excellent," he said, and Tempest realized that this was the first actual proper conversation they had had.

"-I was almost sure that Ireland would win, the manoeuvres! I mean, Ireland's chasers, they were brilliant, they had the Quaffle for most of the time, and they flew in this formation… "

Tempest found herself involuntarily relaxing, something that she couldn't have imagined possible in Malfoy's presence. It was amazing, he was now chatting amicably away, making Tempest wonder whether he was the same Slytherin git as he usually was. She rather liked the new version. Malfoy wasn't gesturing wildly like Tempest did when she talked, but his eyes were shining…

"…and the Wronski Feint… I was watching at the First task, yours was executed in almost exactly the same way-"

"Yes, but I had a Firebolt- it made it easier, if it was on another broom, it would rely more on the skill rather than the broom-"

"-Come on Tempest, stop kidding yourself, you're a great flyer, only a prat wouldn't admit it, it doesn't really matter about the broom, it's the skill… Besides, skill versus the quality of the broom, skill will always win out-"

"No? Alright, someday, you, me, Quidditch pitch, you can ride my broom, and I'll ride yours, and let's see who can do the Wronski Feint properly!"

Malfoy smirked, only it didn't have the underlying smugness that it usually did. "Well, at least Lynch proved that he can't do it on a professional broomstick."

Tempest mock glared at him, "Oh come on! He must have _some_ skill in flying to have gotten there…"

"_Please_, it's the chasers who have all the skill, there was that Hawkshead Attacking Formation… I need to try that out on the Slytherin team…"

"Then I suppose you'll understand if the Gryffindor team tries it out too… and wins."

"Absolutely not!"

Tempest laughed, an actual laugh, and her attention wandered to Professor Dumbledore and Karkaroff's conversation.

"…we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that we have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?" Karkaroff was saying, smiling horrifically.

"Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," Dumbledore said amicably, "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon- or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

Tempest choked with laughter, and then began coughing, causing Percy to frown disapprovingly, and Draco- (now when had she begun calling him that?) to bang her on the back a bit harder than necessary.

Hermione shot Tempest a grin, and she thought she saw Dumbledore give her a small wink.

Hermione was now teaching Krum how to say her name properly, he kept calling her, "Hermy-own" which Tempest thought would be a rather nice name for an owl.

"Her-my-oh-nee," she said slowly and clearly.

"Herm-own-ninny."

Tempest choked again, and Hermione caught Tempest's eye and grinned. "Close enough."

When everyone had finished eating (Tempest hadn't even realized there was food available really,) Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The Weird Sisters (Tempest had heard them on the WWN, -Wizard's wireless network- ) trooped up onto the stage to enthusiastic applause. They were all very hairy, and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments, and Tempest, who had been so interested in what was happening, that she had forgotten what was coming.

All the other champions were standing up… to dance.

And Tempest didn't know how to dance.

"Um, Draco-" Tempest said from the corner of her mouth, the name sounding weird in her mouth, "I might have forgotten to mention something-"

They walked onto the brightly lit dance floor, ignoring the snickers from Fred and George as she tripped slightly.

"Yes?" Draco answered.

"I might… not know how to dance…"

The Weird sisters had struck up a slow, mournful tune, and then suddenly Malfoy had a hand on her waist (which actually felt quite nice- not that she was going to admit that to anyone), her arm was on his shoulder, and he was steering her around.

Tempest blinked, "You know how to dance?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's a good thing too, otherwise you'd be making a prat of yourself in front of the whole school."

"Are you forgetting who I am? I do that on a regular basis!"

He laughed, a proper laugh, and Tempest was suddenly struck by how _handsome_ he looked. Maybe it was a Malfoy/Black thing- after all, Sirius had that throwaway handsome look that all the Blacks did, and so did Malfoy's mother- and weren't they cousins? Suddenly she couldn't see the hated Slytherin git anymore, and she was actually enjoying herself.

Soon, the watching people had come onto the dance floor too, so that the champions were no longer the centre of attention.

Neville was dancing nearby- with Ginny? And she could see Ginny wincing frequently as Neville trod on her feet- Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin: however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large.

Mad-Eye Moody was doing a very ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who was nervously avoiding his wooden leg.

Tempest didn't even realize when the Weird Sisters changed songs- the next one much faster, only realizing when Draco spun her unexpectedly, and she ended up colliding into his chest.

"Um." She said, as she righted herself, and as it was too late to back off the dance floor, they continued dancing in small circles, letting Draco do all the steering- Tempest had no idea what she was doing in any case- and she blushed, something that never happened to her.

"So, uh, where'd you learn to dance?" Tempest asked, for lack of anything else to say.

"It's a tradition," Draco said, and Tempest nodded slightly. Maybe it was a pureblood thing- after all, Draco had been a prejudiced pure-blooded git up until now.

He spun her again, and Tempest, who had seen it coming actually managed to keep her balance as the world whirled by, a startled laugh escaping her.

Now blushing in earnest, Tempest found herself actually laughing- a light-hearted, but genuine laugh. She usually only laughed that much around Minnie, Sirius, or her close friends…

She could see Hermione and Krum dancing nearby, Krum actually looking quite good looking with a smile on his ordinarily sullen face, and Hermione was beaming.

Fred and Angelina were dancing so vigorously nearby that people gave them a wide berth to avoid being pummelled by flying limbs.

The next song came up, and even if Draco had offered, Tempest didn't really want to leave the dance floor.

It was exhilarating, as the music sped up, and Tempest almost didn't want to stop when Hermione came over and asked whether or not they would like to go get drinks together.

Tempest agreed, and then stayed with Hermione as Draco and Krum walked off to find some drinks.

Hermione turned to Tempest, a slightly foolish grin on her face, and let out a small laugh.

"You look like you've got a smile permanently pasted to your face Hermione!" Tempest snickered.

"You're one to talk Tempest, you haven't stop smiling for the past ten minutes, don't think I haven't noticed!"

Tempest blinked, and tried to look down her nose at her mouth. Had she been? She couldn't really bring herself to care.

"Let's go sit down," Tempest said, fanning herself. It was rather hot now, which was odd, because Dumbledore had charmed the ceiling to make rather realistic snow fall.

"Oh, there's Ron!"

The pair of them walked over to where Ron was sitting alone (Tempest wondered where Luna had gone), and sat down.

"Hey!" Tempest said, still slightly breathless. "It's hot isn't it?"

"Viktor and Draco have gone to get us some drinks," Hermione added, leaning back against the chair, still rather pink.

Ron gave them a withering look. "Viktor? _Draco_? Haven't they asked you to call them Vicky and… _Drac_ yet?"

Tempest spluttered, "_Drac?_ Ron, what's up with you?"

Hermione seemed just as confused.

"If you don't know," said Ron scathingly, "I'm not going to tell you."

The two of them stared at Ron in confusion, "What's wrong-"

"He's from Durmstrang! _He's_ from Slytherin! You're both… _You're_ fraternizing with the enemy- and you're…. you're betraying Gryffindor!"

Both Hermione and Tempest's mouth's fell open. "Betraying Gryffindor?" Tempest spluttered out after a moment, "I'm not betraying anyone! I'm just going to a ball with someone who happens to be in Slytherin-"

"-and it's _Malfoy_ Tempest, or have you forgotten that he's the one who's tried to make our lives miserable from day one? And you!" He rounded on Hermione, leaving Tempest gapping speechless with indignation at his back. "You're going with Krum! He's competing against Tempest! He learns the Dark Arts Hermione!"

"Don't be so stupid!" Hermione said, "The enemy? Who was so excited when they saw him arrive? Who was the one who wanted his autograph? Who's got a model of him up in their dormitory?"

"I s'pose he asked you to come with him while you were in the library?" Ron snapped, ignoring Hermione's words. Tempest merely stood there trembling with fury. First Ron picked on her, and then Hermione?

"Yes he did," Hermione said, blushing even more furiously. "So?"

"What happened?- were you trying to get him to join spew?"

"No I wasn't! If you really have to know, he- he said he'd been coming to the library every day to try to talk to me, but he hadn't been able to pluck up the courage!" Hermione said the words very quickly, and then blushed a deep burning red.

"And you believe that," Ron snarled, "He's famous… he could ask anyone… why would he need to pluck up his courage?"

Tempest was burning with fury for Hermione, "Maybe because he isn't as short-sighted as you are Ron!"

Ron rounded on Tempest. "And you! Going with that git Malfoy! What do you see in him?"

"What shouldn't I see in him?" Tempest snapped hotly.

"Everything!" Ron cried, standing up and waving his arms around. "He's a slimy Slytherin git who's using you!"

Tempest glared at him. "Well you've made it perfectly clear that you think that neither of us are worth asking out!"

Ron brushed the words aside like he hadn't heard them, which hurt Tempest more than she would care to show. She didn't think of Ron in that way, but to hear a boy imply that her and her best friend were _that_ undesirable…. "Who cares? They're both using you! Malfoy's probably trying to infiltrate us for his Death Eater father, and Krum's trying to get to Tempest through you Hermione!"

Hermione let out a cry of outrage. "Viktor would never do that- and he hasn't asked a single question about Tempest not one- the only time he brought her up was to complement her flying-"

Ron changed tact at the speed of light. "Then he's using you to find out what his egg means, and you're letting him! Like you Tempest- I suppose all four of you spend your time huddled together letting both of them in while they spout lies to you- have you forgotten all the times that he's tried to get us expelled, mocked us and even tried to get Hagrid sacked? His father's a Death Eater!"

"So his father is one! It doesn't mean he is too!"

"You used to hate him Tempest! What happened? Did he snog you and then make you go along with all his lies?"

Tempest stared at Ron, a buzzing in her ears, and she was on her feet, inches from Ron before she knew it. "_Oh_? Is _that_ what you think of me? And as for what happened- he grew up Ron! Unlike you!"

Hermione looked like Ron had hit her as she stood too. "And I would never, _never_ help Viktor to work out that egg! You know that!"

"You've got a funny way of showing that," Ron sneered at the pair of them.

"In any case," Tempest said, struggling to keep her voice level even though she was trembling with fury, "we can take care of ourselves-"

"No you can't, you're girls!"

Hermione had taken two steps forwards and slapped Ron before he even realized she had moved, and then she turned and disappeared into the crowd on the dance floor.

"Well," said Ron, "at least now she knows."

"What is _wrong_ with you Ron?" Tempest asked, trying to find any hint of the red-headed eleven-year-old boy who she had met on the Hogwarts Express in the face of the fourteen year old she was facing who she _hated_ right then.

"You and Hermione are traitors!"

"Traitors to what exactly?" Tempest snapped, one step away from slapping Ron herself.

"To me!"

"To _you_?" spluttered Tempest, " You don't _own _us Ron! We can make our own choices perfectly well!"

"No you can't!"

"Then you know the solution then don't you?" Tempest yelled, "Next time there's a ball, ask us before someone else does, clear the muck out of that thing inside your skull you call a brain, and see what's in front of you! And don't realize it at the last second and use us as a final resort!"

Ron didn't even look upset, or sorry at all.

"Probably her time of the month." Muttered Ron.

"Ron, you ruined _everything!_" Tempest yelled, as Ron walked away, and Tempest whirled around and stormed out onto the dance floor, skirting the dancing pairs, looking for Hermione, Viktor and Draco.

She saw them standing together, and to her surprise, Draco was talking to Hermione, and holding what looked like a perfectly friendly and respectful conversation.

Hermione, Tempest noticed, still looked rather bothered, but she was smiling slightly at something Draco had said.

When she saw him like this- Tempest wanted to punch Ron all over again. The Slytherin git wasn't a git anymore, and he was smiling and chatting to Hermione- a muggle-born, which meant in itself that he had changed! He looked human even- not the cold manipulative boy he was… a week ago? Had it really only been that long?

"Hey," Tempest said, trying to force her mouth into a smile.

"Hey," Draco replied, smiling back, and Tempest once again cursed Ron.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, we were comparing lessons from Durmstrang and Hogwarts," Draco said, and there wasn't a hint of deception in his face, it was open and friendly, and Tempest wondered _why had he changed so much?_ Not that she was complaining of course.

"Yes, I am enjoying Transfiguration, it is taught in much more detail here at Hogwarts," said Viktor, smiling at Hermione.

The two broke into an earnest conversation about the difference between self-transfiguration and transfiguring a separate sentient being. From what Tempest could tell, it was seventh year standard transfiguration, but Hermione seemed to understand what he was saying whereas her and Draco were left in the dark.

"Go for a walk?" Tempest asked Draco, and he nodded.

They said goodbye to Hermione and Viktor, then walked out through a side door into the school grounds.

They walked quite peacefully through the rose bushes, and Tempest constantly had to remind herself that it was _Malfoy_ beside her, and not some stranger.

As they wound down the neatly paved path, Tempest had never been good with holding her tongue, and therefore the words slipped out almost without her noticing. "Who are you?"

Draco turned to Tempest, a confused half-smile on his face. "Draco Malfoy- and you are?"

Tempest laughed too. "See, that's exactly what I meant! You're acting like you've had fifty years to rehabilitate in under one week… What happened? And why were you such a git in the first place?"

"Wow, you're not one to scramble words are you?" Draco said, "and what does 'rehabilitate' mean?"

"Oh right- Muggle term- basically being locked up in a room for a long time until you get your head screwed on straight…. To make it simpler, I'll just ask one question at a time- Why were you such a git for the past few years?"

Draco was silent for a while, and Tempest thought for a moment that he wouldn't reply.

"It was who I was." He said simply.

Blunt as always, Tempest asked: "What?"

"It was who I was," Draco said slightly louder. "It was what was drilled into me from the day I was born, from my father, from the people I was around, from my friends… Until- as you said, a week ago."

"What changed?"

"I woke up, or rather _you_ woke me up," Draco, seeing the rather sceptical un-sympathetic look on Tempest's face, hurried on, "-not like _that,_ I just meant, that I realized something. I mean, that I've got two parents who buy me anything I want, I'm surrounded by noble pure-bloods from old and respected families, and two pure-blooded friends who are actually boring buffoons, and another pure-blood girl who follows me around like a dog who's a right bitch, and I'm practically miserable.

And then I see you- and no offence intended, but both your parents are dead, you're living with muggles, your best friends are a Mudblood and a blood-traitor, you almost die every year, and half the school hated you for a while, and somehow you still manage to walk around smiling like you're the luckiest damn person in the world!"

Draco paused for a moment, and then continued. "and I was thinking… if you can manage to do that, well… I want in."

Tempest was silent for a while, watching the fairies twinkle among the bushes. She wasn't offended, even if it felt like someone was stabbing her in the chest with a rusty knife every time she heard it, her parents _were_ dead, but she didn't want to tell Draco that she was living with Minnie. Only a select few knew. Eventually, Tempest didn't have many words left. "Oh." She replied.

"Yeah."

They walked for a few more minutes, then Draco asked, "What are you thinking?"

Tempest shrugged. "I'm thinking… I really want to go fly a few laps around the Quiddtich Pitch, but I don't think that's going to happen."

"Why not?"

"In case you haven't realized, I'm wearing a dress," Tempest said, gesturing down at her ensemble.

Draco cleared his throat. "Actually I did notice."

Tempest blushed, confused and slightly pleased at the same time. Confused because well… why was she blushing all the time? It wasn't like they were going out, it was only going to the ball… as friends. Sort of. After all, she had only officially _known_ the proper Draco Malfoy for under two hours.

"C'mon Tempest, are you a witch or not?"

Tempest shot him a disapproving look, and then waved her wand at her clothes. She had seen Minnie do it once before. Hopefully the theory would work…

Tempest's dress seemed to shimmer and warp, until she was wearing a silver-blue turtleneck and slightly darker shorts. The colour hadn't changed much, but at least the clothes had.

"I'll change it back into a dress later," Tempest said, now changing her heels into more suitable shoes. "Let's go!"

"That eager?" Draco teased.

"Eager to kick your ass at flying." Tempest shot back.

Draco sighed and rolled his eyes. "As much as it pains me to admit it, you already _know_ you're going to kick my ass."

Tempest shrugged. "True, but I'm still looking forward to actually doing it…. Race you to the Quidditch pitch!"

Tempest didn't give Draco time to respond, sprinting towards the distant goal hoops. Unfortunately though, Draco had longer legs, and easily caught up with her. "Snails could out-run you Potter," Draco said, a moment before he slammed into a tree.

Tempest stopped, the pained expression on her face showing the strain of holding in her laughter. "You know, if I didn't like you right now, I'd be laughing- so…"

Tempest burst out laughing.

"Laugh at me will you?" said Draco, "Accio broom!"

A dark blur shot out of the trees, knocking Tempest over, and stopping gracefully at Draco's side.

He flung a leg over the broom, "See you at the finish line," he called, then took off, shooting through the trees in the direction of the Quidditch pitch.

"Damn it!" swore Tempest, standing. "Accio Firebolt!"

Exactly three seconds passed, and then her magnificent broom, given to her by Sirius zoomed to a stop in front of her.

Tempest mounted it quickly and took off above the trees. The wind whipped through her loose hair, and she mentally cursed. She had spent an hour and a half making her hair sleek and shiny, and now it would be its usual messy mop.

On the bright side though, she could see the glint of Draco's silver-blond hair beneath her, as his head snapped up to look at her, she grinned and waved, urging her broom on.

She shot between the three goal-hoops just a millimetre before Draco, and she did a victory lap around the pitch, whooping rather boyishly with triumph.

And then something- or rather _someone_- slammed into her.

"Malfoy!" Tempest yelled, spiralling sideways before she righted herself, then seeing the smug smirk on his face, she shot forwards, slamming into him, sending the two of them sailing through the air ungracefully, narrowly missing the Astronomy tower .

"What are you doing? We're going to crash!" Tempest yelled at Draco.

"The brooms are stuck together!"

"Stuck together? What the bloody hell do you mean they're stuck together? Unstick them!" Tempest said, trying to shove Draco away one handed, while the other hand gripped onto the hilt of her broom for dear life.

"You do it if it's so easy then!"

A wall loomed up, and Tempest yanked both brooms to the side, spinning them in a completely different direction.

"Look out!"

Tempest opened her mouth to ask '_WHAT?_' only to get a mouthful of leaves as they ploughed through several feet of dirt and crashed into a rose bush.

Tempest got up, untangling herself from her broom, spitting out a few leaves, and then collapsed back down on the ground, panting. "What was that? _Look out_? I'd bloody well scream 'move' or something like that…_"_

For a moment, Draco merely lay there spread-eagled beside her, then he spoke- "Next time… next time… I'll keep that in mind…"

"Shut up Malfoy." Tempest sighed, absentmindedly waving her wand at her ragged clothes, changing them back into her dress, then letting her head fall back.

Draco sat up. "Gladly."

And then he kissed her.

~Y.-.Y~

_Did the throwing of a ball mean that everyone snuck outside to snog in the bushes_? Severus thought.

Karkaroff was complaining beside him, and as much as he outwardly scorned the man's worries, inside Severus was just as anxious, if not more. His mark had been steadily darkening, it was clearly visible now, unlike the faint lines it had faded to after the Dark Lord's supposed demise.

That added to the fact that Severus was already in a foul mood, he _hated_ balls, it only brought back memories of the extra opportunities the Marauders had to humiliate him.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Severus snarled, seeing a girl shoot past him, followed by a boy who seemed to be chasing her. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!"

The two rounded the corner, and came face to face with a sight he would never have thought to see.

Gryffindor's golden girl Hermione Granger was standing in the shadow of a fountain, snogging….

Karkaroff made a choked sound. "Viktor!"

The quiet studious goody-goody two-shoes Gryffindor broke apart from the Durmstrang international Quidditch Seeker, and stared with frightened eyes at the two people who were probably at the top of the list of people she least wanted to walk in on her snogging.

"Oh, um… We'll go…" Granger said, inching away slowly, Krum following.

"Viktor!" snapped Karkaroff, "I will be having words with you later on the ship, understand?"

Krum gave a curt nod, and Severus did not envy the boy right then.

"I will see you later Severus." Karkaroff muttered, disappearing after the pair.

Severus ignored him, and continued walking, aiming for the open doors of the entrance hall, only to change direction as he heard the sounds of crashing and yelling behind him, as though Hagrid had taken it upon himself to attack the rose bushes.

Cursing, Severus stalked towards the source of the noise, then jerked slightly as a figure stumped up to him out of the darkness. "Snape." Moody said, glaring at him.

"Alastor." Severus replied coolly. "How… Pleasant to see you."

"Aye?" growled Moody, "and what would bring you out here at this time of the night?"

"I heard a disturbance," Severus replied frigidly. "And unless it is a particularly vicious group of fairies on a rampage, it warrants investigation."

"Indeed?" Moody raised an eyebrow, scars rippling across his face. "Well then you should have no objection to me accompanying you."

"Very well." Severus said curtly.

The two walked around the corner, and nothing would have prepared Severus for what he saw.

He should really have seen it coming- after all, who drew their worst enemy's face in the middle of a potions test without being infatuated with the said person? Who asked their worst enemy to the ball with no reason? Who had _gone_ to the ball with their worst enemy, and then looked like they were having the time of their lives? Who had snuck out halfway through, together _with_ their worst enemy?

Severus should have seen it coming, but it did not diminish the shock of seeing his godson snogging the daughter of the woman who he loved and the man who he hated, in a foot-deep trench in the dirt covered in broken twigs and leaves, lying on top of a pair of broomsticks.

"Malfoy- Miss Potter!" growled Moody, and as much as Severus hated the man, he was grateful that the words provided enough of a distraction to cover his shock.

They broke apart, both of them looked up at the same time, twin expressions of horror on their faces, even more pronounced than Granger and Krum.

"Snap- Professor Snape… Professor Moody-" Tempest stuttered, "We were… we went for um… a walk." She finished lamely.

"Indeed," Severus drawled, recovering his sneer . "Five points from Gryffindor and Slytherin, and as they are taking pictures of the champions in the Great Hall, I suggest you get moving Miss Potter."

Draco gapped at Severus. After all, Professor Snape never took house points off Gryffindors… ever.

But the head of Slytherin had an odd emotion welling up inside him for some reason… something he could not identify.

"Alright," Draco said, standing and helping Potter up, leaves were tangled in his silver blond hair, just as there were still twigs in still Tempest's hair, which instead of the sleek sheet which it had been an hour ago, was its usual mess.

The pair picked up their brooms, -and Severus took the time to wonder at why they had the brooms there… and as to why there was that huge trench in the ground.. – and skirted around the two professors, and disappeared.

Severus turned to Moody, "_Thank_ you for accompanying me Alastor, although if I am mistaken you may have more pressing matters than standing around?"

The Auror gave Severus a dark look, "I hope you know I have both my eyes on you Snape," he snarled.

"I am drowning in a sea of self-importance," sneered Severus, and he whirled around, heading back to the school.

As he entered the entrance hall though, his eye caught on a particular two students.

They seemed to have used magic to fix their appearance, and Tempest was laughing, Lily's green eyes gleaming with excitement, laughter and life, clutching at Draco's arm, and he was smiling too, and it occurred to Severus how different the boy was to his father, and how he had managed to hide it for most of his life, when his heart was more like his mother, the cheerful woman she had been before the war.

So many people had lost who they had been during the war, and a strange tug in Severus's chest made him hiss a breath as he watched the two.

The emotion he had failed to identify before returned, and he finally recognized it. It was a sadness, not the usual bitter self-pitying yet well justified despair, but rather a raw emotion, and a hint of pity.

It would never work, not between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, Half-blood and Pureblood, it was a doomed relationship. If a friendship between a half-blood and muggle-born could not endure, then how could theirs?

The Chosen one- the girl-who-lived- daughter of the two brightest points of light in the past war against the dark, and the son of a death eater and one of the noble Black family, both families who had always been on the Dark Lord's side.

It was like fate's cruel joke, always throwing two people who could never be at each other, binding their lives together, then cutting the strings.

Severus turned on his heel, the bitter feeling in his chest, leaving the smiling green-eyed raven-haired girl laughing on the dance floor as the silver haired boy spun her around, blissfully oblivious of the impending war looming over them.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Ten: Skeeter.

"Say again?"

Tempest sighed. "I snogged Draco Malfoy- and then Snape and Professor Moody walked in on us. Happy?"

Hermione gapped. "What?"

"I know, I know…"

"No, I mean, Professor Snape and Karkaroff walked in on me and Krum!"

Tempest gapped back at her.

The two of them were in the girl's dormitories, Lavender and Pravati chattering in the bathroom, and it was approximately half an hour past midnight and both girls were changed back into their usual sleeping gear, (which for Hermione was a pair of snowflake covered navy pyjama's and for Tempest was a pair of black pyjama bottoms and an oversize t-shirt with a picture of a giant bunny rabbit eating the Big Ben), and going over the nights events.

Neither of them were talking about what had happened with Ron, and Tempest wasn't sure what would happen the next morning- or rather that morning, as it was after twelve- .

"We have the worst luck, don't we Hermione?" asked Tempest, as Nyx batted at Tempest's hair. (after she had tidied her hair up with magic for the photo, Tempest had let it go back to normal) "We both end up snogging people who the world is against us being with, and then get walked in on by the worst teacher possible."

Hermione didn't even deny it.

As the lights went out, Tempest lay in her bed, staring into the darkness. After her and Draco had gone for their moonlit… flight, Hermione and Krum had also gone for a walk, and before they had gotten involved in…. other activities, they had heard Snape talking to Karkaroff about something… Karkaroff had apparently been worried about something, whereas Snape had been less concerned and said something about Karkaroff running, and Snape making excuses? And then if that hadn't been enough, apparently Hermione had relocated with Krum to do… more physical activity, and heard Hagrid talking to Madame Maxime, and it turned out he was half giant on his mother's side.

…and then if that wasn't enough to mull over, when Tempest had been leaving the ball with Draco, Cedric had come up and asked to speak in private, then told Tempest to take a bath with her egg in the prefect's bathroom.

Tempest groaned. It was half past twelve at night and her mind was too full of information she did not understand for her to process.

She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow and wished for Sirius.

~Y.-.Y~

Boxing day seemed slow and lazy to Tempest, and it was both one of the best and worst days of her life.

Both her and Hermione had gotten into a yelling match with Ron in the Great Hall at breakfast, which ended with Tempest punching Ron in the face and then storming out.

Once Hermione had finished with Ron too, (hexing him so that he erupted in boils,) the two of them went back up to the dormitories to talk.

"A giant." Tempest said flatly, rubbing her nose absentmindedly. "His mother was a giant."

Hermione nodded. "I don't know what he was doing- the idiot, shouting to the world he was a half-giant when anyone could have heard- luckily though, it was just me and Viktor…."

Half giant…

Tempest didn't really know much about them, but she had read a few books from Minnie's study about the giants, and it described them as vicious and savage- complete animals. After meeting Lockhart and Skeeter though, she was less inclined to believe the words.

"…it's all bigotry isn't it?" finished Hermione.

"Well, everyone discriminates against werewolves," said Tempest, "and they have a hard time getting a job just because they have a… problem once a month, when the rest of the time they're just ordinary people like us… And Hagrid isn't even full giant, and he's one of the best, kindest people I've ever known." She sighed, then leant back against her pillows, "Why do the best people have the worst luck? There's Remus, Sirius, Hagrid… you and Ron…"

Tempest trailed off suddenly as Hermione blushed.

Clearing her throat a bit too loudly to be innocent, Hermione spoke, "Well, that's not the point- just we can't tell anyone else! I mean, it's alright for us- we _know_ Hagrid, but we can't be sure that everyone else will be just as open-minded."

"True…" Tempest sighed, then turned back to Hermione. "How's Kru-Viktor…?"

"Oh, he's great, he-"

Tempest nodded and tried to appear interested as Hermione launched into a very detailed version of her evening last night. It was basically her and Viktor talking about their lives, and Tempest found herself quite liking Viktor from Hermione's perspective, and she wondered whether or not she could ask Viktor to give her some tips on flying.

"-and then Professor Karkaroff said that he wanted to talk to Viktor later…. He didn't elaborate, but I'm pretty sure it isn't good…"

"Wait-" Tempest interrupted, remembering what Hermione had told her about Snape and Karkaroff talking last night. "-what did you mean last night? You said you heard Snape and Karkaroff talking about something…"

"Oh yes," Hermione said, not seeming put off at all at Tempest's interruption. "I think it was Professor Karkaroff saying that something was getting darker- and then Professor Snape said that he wasn't a coward, and that Professor Karkaroff could run if he wanted to, but Professor Snape wasn't going to… and that was all."

Tempest's eyebrows raised. "Darker? Why would they need to run? I mean, Karkaroff's the headmaster of a school, friends with Dumbledore… and I guess Snape's good with a wand, why would they need to run?"

"Some things you can't fight off Tempest," Hermione said, and Tempest thought back to Moody's class, the three Unforgivables. Tempest shuddered involuntarily.

"In any case, that's not all," Tempest sighed, "Cedric came up to me after the ball- he said something about me taking a bath with the egg in the Prefect's bathroom… what d'you think he means?"

"Apart from the obvious?" Hermione joked, then became serious again. "I don't know… I guess it's a hint. After all, you did help him with the dragons didn't you? So maybe he's paying you back."

Tempest frowned. "But that's a bit cryptic isn't it? And he doesn't need to pay me back- I only told him to give us all an even playing ground… I don't want to have one over the other champions- and Cedric must have worked it out himself… so I'm going to do the same."

Hermione shook her head smiling slightly. "Tempest, when are you going to let go of your pride?"

Tempest glanced at her, "What?"

"Nothing."

Shrugging, Tempest stood up and grabbed her wand from her dresser, stuffing it up her sleeve. "Okay then- I'm going to see Hagrid, and then Draco… See you!"

~Y.-.Y~

News spread like wildfire through the school. Not only had Tempest Potter gone with _Draco Malfoy_ to the Yule Ball- they were dating,

Pansy Parkinson had thrown a fit in the Great Hall when she heard, sobbing uncontrollably and yelling rather unimaginative insults at Tempest across the hall, while the other Slytherins girls glared at her.

All in all, to Tempest, the reaction was better than what she had been expecting. She hasn't really expected open arms, warm congratulations and huge parties thrown in their favour, and abuse and slander a thousand times worse than what she had endured before- here she was dating the 'enemy'.

However there was none of that.

It was true, no one was particularly receptive of their new relationship, but apart from some gapping Hufflepuffs, some pointed looks, lots of glared and hushed whispers, the reaction was nothing like when Tempest had been declared the second Hogwarts champion.

But it meant that no one apart from Hermione would approach Tempest when she was with Draco- something she was immensely grateful for. Hermione had apparently readily accepted Draco's apology, and Draco was being polite, treating Hermione no differently than Tempest- apart from some… obvious differences.

Even so, the next day, when Tempest sat down at the Slytherin table with Draco, the entire hall fell silent.

It had never happened before- a Gryffindor sitting at the Slytherin table, especially not Gryffindor's golden girl.

"Is it weird that my favourite colours have always been silver and green?" Tempest asked as she swung her legs over the long bench, pulling a piece of toast over to her, ignoring the disgusted looks from the Slytherins.

Blaise Zambini, a brown-haired Slytherin who Tempest had seen Draco spending more and more time with- away from Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle- said nothing as Tempest sat, and she noted the rather relieved look that Draco sent him.

Rather wryly, Tempest was glad that Draco had _some_ friends that were half-way decent.

"Not really," Draco replied, also ignoring the rest of his house, "A few years before I came to Hogwarts I had a thing for gold… I grew out of it though."

Tempest choked on her toast. "Gold? Seriously?"

"Silver?" Draco replied, cocking an eyebrow, "Seriously?"

Tempest smiled back, focusing on her toast, as slowly the Slytherins returned to their breakfast, only Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle still glaring at her- even though the expression on Crabbe and Goyle's face was so dull, Tempest doubted they even knew why they were glaring at her,- and a sudden tingle up her spine made Tempest look up at the Staff table to find the majority of them turning away as she looked at them.

Only Professor Dumbledore maintained eye contact, his eyes twinkling behind his glasses, and Tempest gave him a cautious smile.

His answering one made Tempest relax, and she returned her attention to Zambini, who had shoved a hand in Tempest's face.

"Blaise Zambini," he said stiffly, and Tempest wondered whether or not Draco had put him up to it.

"Tempest," Tempest replied rather cynically, shaking it.

"Geez Blaise, you look as stiff as a board!" Draco exclaimed, and the tension eased as Blaise gave a small laugh. "What'd you do? Stick a broomstick up your ass?"

"You would know wouldn't you?" Tempest asked, arching her eyebrows meaningfully at Blaise, and was rewarded by his laugh.

The three met up with Hermione- and Blaise, to Tempest's relief was just as civil as Draco, (and Tempest wondered whether she should begin rearranging her opinion of the Slytherins- after all, if Draco and Blaise could be that nice, they couldn't be all that bad, could they?)- and then went down to the Black Lake together, where they sat watching the giant squid chase seagulls across the water top.

Tempest and Hermione didn't mention Hagrid- and it wasn't that Tempest didn't trust them, (but after all, she had only technically known the pair of them for a day or less, and she doubted that Hagrid would appreciate her telling them)- just she didn't feel like telling them. It was Hagrid's business after all.

They had a thoroughly nice day, and when Tempest went to bed that night, she felt like she had ingested a thousand clouds of cotton candy. Slightly dizzy, but walking on air.

Now she knew why Lavender was always over the moon when she came back from dates with boys. At first, Tempest had silently scorned the other girl- after all, it was just a day out with a guy, sometimes snogging, but still, just an ordinary day- but now she understood… sort of.

It was hard to explain, and Tempest cursed herself for being a giggling, childish, _girl,_ but there was something infinitely unexplainable about the way she felt when she caught Draco looking at her… or maybe the way he looked at her… like he actually _saw_ her properly, and there was a sort of fixed determination in his eyes- like… well, she didn't know. Just no-one had ever looked at her like that before, and it made her face burn with heat when she thought about it.

"You're smiling Tempest," Hermione's voice cut through Tempest's haze.

"So?" snapped Tempest, rather defensively.

"Nothing," Hermione replied innocently.

"Anything to do with Malfoy?" Lavender asked, sitting cross-legged on her own bed.

"None of your business," Tempest's replied, her face flushing.

"Ooo it is!" Pravati said, coming up the stairs, the girls seeming to put aside their prejudices while they gossiped about boys. "What's he like? He is _very_ handsome after all."

Tempest rolled her eyes. Lavender and Pravati judged everyone by their looks. Tempest had heard them complimenting Draco's features even before he began acting decently.

Tempest's eye fell on her dresser where she had shoved her golden egg after the last time she had opened it as a test run, just to see whether or not the horrible screeching had changed at all in two days. (FYI- it hadn't changed at all.)

Tempest had tried casting spells on the egg- trying to make it reveal its secrets, but nothing worked on it. She had tried opening it and trying to think of what the screeching reminded her of- apart from the horrible music she had heard the ghost party Second year- but she couldn't think of anything. Tempest had tried yelling questions at the egg across the wailing, even dropping it from the top of the Astronomy tower in a fit of anger.

Nothing worked.

Tempest was increasingly tempted to follow Cedric's advice, but to her chagrin, she realized Hermione was right. Tempest's pride wouldn't let her stoop to use his help- and unless she became desperate, she wouldn't use his advice.

The rest of the holidays passed in a blur, spending days down at the Lake and in the grounds with Hermione, Draco and Blaise- and oddly enough- the twins.

Instead of following the rest of Gryffindor's animosity towards Draco, the twins seemed to take everything in their stride, regardless of Draco's former insults to their family- something that Tempest could have hugged the twins for.

George particularly seemed to make a conscious effort to like Draco, and had even decided to let Draco in on the prank that they were going to pull on the staff room.

All in all, Tempest couldn't remember a happier time.

Sadly enough though, when term began again, and lessons arrived, Tempest found herself rather behind in homework, and had to spend several sleepless nights in the common room catching up.

On Monday, Tempest headed down to Hagrid's cabin for Care of Magical Creatures- silently praying that over the holidays the rest of the Skrewts had finished killing each other off- only to find that Hagrid was no-where to be seen.

There was an elderly witch with closely cropped grey hair and a very prominent chin standing by the pumpkin patch instead.

Tempest saw Draco standing with Blaise, muttering something, looking rather put off, while Ron was standing with Dean and Seamus, shooting Tempest and Hermione not-so-subtle glares.

"Where's Hagrid?" Tempest asked as they reached the witch.

"My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank," she said briskly. "I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher, and you are five minutes late- hurry up now-"

"Yes, but where's Hagrid?" Hermione said a lot more politely than Tempest would have.

"He is indisposed," Grubbly-Plank said shortly.

Tempest frowned as she saw Draco waving her over, holding what looked like a newspaper.

"What?" she asked as she and Hermione reached him, and they all followed Grubbly-Plank as she set off walking past the Beauxbatons carriage.

Draco mouthed a few words, before wordlessly gesturing to the paper.

Tempest snatched the paper from his hands rather rudely, and scanned the page quickly. "Shit!" she swore vehemently, making Hermione look at her reproachfully.

There was a picture of Hagrid, who looked like he had just committed mass murder, and it was topped with the headline: _DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE_

_Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy, ex-Auror, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence._

_Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures._

_Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since- a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates._

_An alarmingly large and ferocious man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being 'very frightening.'_

_"My ex-boyfriend Draco Malfoy was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Pansy Parkinson, a fourth-year student at Hogwarts. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything."_

_Hagrid had no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breading creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts' highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire-crabs."_

_The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions._

_"I was just having some fun," he says, before hastily changing the subject. As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not – as he has always pretended – a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa,_ _whose whereabouts are currently unknown. Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror._

_While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature._

_In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the girl who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power- thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Tempest Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about her large friend- but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Tempest Potter, along with her fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants._

Tempest screwed up the paper, throwing it away from her, and taking out her wand, she set the paper on fire, glaring at the ashes.

Hermione, who had finished reading before Tempest, glanced at Draco. "How'd she find out?"

"You knew?" Draco asked, glancing between the two of them. "You knew he was a half-giant?"

Tempest scoffed. "It doesn't matter in any case- the whole world knows by now, I should think- and we have your delightful ex-girlfriend feeding Skeeter lies, Draco." Tempest said coldly.

"She's not my ex-girlfriend Tempest," Draco interrupted, "-and I don't know how she found out- but if you knew he was a half-giant then why-"

"Because he's a decent person who isn't as horrible as everyone says he is just because of _what _he is- and I've known him for three years plus, and I'll judge him on those years, not by his heritage!"

Tempest stopped suddenly, seeing Draco's closed off expression, and she realized what she had said. "Anyway- what I want to know, is _how did she find out_?" Tempest continued, turning to Hermione. "You were alone weren't you? Just you and Viktor?"

Hermione blushed, but she nodded. "Yes, and I know he wouldn't have said a word- and neither would have Madame Maxime-"

"Maxime!-"

"-so there's no way she could have heard…" Hermione continued over Draco.

"Yes, well-" Tempest frowned, and then glanced over the heads of the Slytherins. "Oi Parkinson!" Tempest yelled, storming up to the girl. "What's this garbage about that baboon-" she gestured at Crabbe standing by Pansy's side, "getting bitten by a flobberworm? They don't have teeth!"

Pansy smiled sweetly at Tempest, who was fuming. "Anything to get that horrible half-breed sacked Potter-"

Tempest almost snarled in her face, ignoring Hermione, who was yanking on Tempest's arm. "Well it's rubbish- and no-one will believe it. Draco _isn't_ your ex-boyfriend, he got mauled by that hippogriff because he was being a prat-"

"Jealous?" smirked Pansy, "_I'd_ never call you a prat Draco sweetie-"

She smiled at Draco, and Tempest wanted to take out her wand and hex Pansy so badly that even flobberworms wouldn't fancy her.

Except.

Except yes, Tempest was jealous- now that she realized it, she was jealous, burningly jealous that Pansy _dared_ to even _say_ Draco's name… Damnit!

"Oi!" called Professor Grubbly-Plank from the front. "Pay attention, now here is a male unicorn-"

Tempest was distracted by the Professor as they reached the edge of the forest, and she saw a beautiful unicorn tied to a tree, pawing the ground nervously with golden hooves.

It was so blindingly bright, it was making the snow around it look grey, and Tempest couldn't help forgetting Pansy for a moment, letting out a breath in amazement.

"Oh it's so beautiful!" whispered Lavender Brown. "How did she get it? They're supposed to be really hard to catch!"

Tempest couldn't help agreeing. She wasn't one for judging on sight, (or at least, she tried not to), but the unicorn was breath-taking.

"Boys keep back!" barked Grubbly-Plank, calling to the boys to stand back- Draco included- "The prefer the woman's touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with care, come on, easy does it…"

Tempest walked forwards with Hermione, shoving the thought of Pansy aside for the while as they approached the unicorn.

She had only seen one other before- but that one had been dead, and Voldemort/Quirrel had been drinking it's blood… This one was beautiful, and Tempest couldn't help agreeing with the centaur who had saved her life two years ago- It was a crime to kill something so pure and beautiful.

As Paravati stepped aside, Tempest had a chance to stretch out an arm and stroke the unicorn's mane, feeling the soft and silky strands that ran through her fingers. "Hi," Tempest breathed- the way she would have when she talked to birds out in the garden back at the Dursleys, when she had been locked outside in the cold, she had liked to talk to the birds, hear them chirp back.

The unicorn quietened, and Tempest stroked it's coat one more time, before stepping back to let Hermione have a turn.

"I hope she stays that woman!" said Paravati Patil when the lesson ended, and they were heading back to the castle for lunch. "That's more like what I thought Care of Magical Creatures would be like… proper creatures like unicorns, not monsters…"

Tempest badly wanted to say something, but the words stuck in her throat as she realized that she had enjoyed the lesson too- when she had chosen Care of Magical Creatures at the end of second year, that had been what she had been imagining the class would be like- and that unicorn had been amazing too… But what about Hagrid?

"It was a good lesson," Hermione said tentatively, "I didn't know most of the things she said about unicorns-"

"Yeah." Tempest said roughly, "But what about Hagrid?"

Draco remained silent behind them, and Tempest tried to remember that he was a pureblood- and that he had been brought up with tales of man-eating giants. She knew he had changed, so much she barely recognized him- but she couldn't really ask him to remake all his beliefs after all. She could tell that Draco's strained tolerance of Hagrid had almost been stretched to breaking point with the newest happenings.

"We've got to go see him," Tempest said, "This evening, right after Divination- urgh, I've _got_ to drop that subject- and tell him we want him back… We don't care who his mother was- he's still the same person… Right?"

Hermione started. "It was a good lesson with Professor Grubbly-Plank- but I do want Hagrid back, I do!" she said hurriedly, seeing Tempest's look.

That evening, after dinner, (Divinations had been horrible, Tempest had sat with Lavender and Paravati just to avoid Ron, and they gushed on about how Tempest would die a tragic and romantic death just because Mars was doing something funny in the sky.), Tempest and Hermione went down to Hagrid's hut, but when they knocked, all the heard was Fang's barking, there was no sound of Hagrid inside.

"Hagrid, it's us!" Tempest yelled, hammering on the door. "Open up!"

There was no answer, and when Tempest and Hermione returned to the castle, she was very disgruntled. "Why's he avoiding us? He doesn't think we care about him being half-giant!"

But it seemed that Hagrid did care. They didn't see a sign of him all week. He didn't appear at the staff table at mealtimes, they didn't see him going about his gamekeeper duties on the grounds, and Professor Grubbly-Plank continued to take Care of Magical Creatures classes.

Pansy those days was unbearable, and Tempest had to focus fixedly on Grubbly-Plank to keep her temper in check.

There was a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January, and Tempest decided to go with Hermione and Draco, Blaise having been asked to go with a Ravenclaw girl.

Tempest ignored Hermione's confusion that Tempest was going to Hogsmeade, saying that perhaps Tempest should use the extra time to figure out her egg- but Tempest had decided to put aside her pride and examine the egg like Cedric had said that night. That didn't mean she was going to tell Hermione though.

As the two walked across the lawn in front of the Black Lake where they had gone for a morning stroll, Tempest saw Viktor emerge up on the deck of the Durmstrang ship, dressed only in swimming trunks. He was skinny- almost as skinny as Tempest herself (not that she imagined he would take kindly to the comparison,) -but he must have been tougher than he looked, because he climbed up onto the edge of the ship, and then dived straight into the lake.

Tempest jumped slightly, grabbing at Hermione's arm. "He's mad! He'll freeze to death- it's January!"

"It's a lot colder where he comes from," said Hermione, glancing at where Viktor had dived in. "It's probably warm here in comparison…"

"Yes, but there's all the other stuff in the Black Lake…" Tempest trailed off.

"I'm sure he'll be fine Tempest… and I thought it was meant to be _me _worrying about him- not you…?" Hermione teased lightly.

Tempest smiled slightly. "So how's it going between you two?"

Hermione blushed, even though it was hard to tell in the cold air. "Oh it's great, we study together in the library, and he's even shown me around the ship once, when Professor Karkaroff wasn't around…"

Tempest nodded. Karkaroff didn't seem the type to approve of his star student dating a muggleborn after all….

Hermione and Tempest set off for the entrance hall, where they were meeting Draco.

The three headed down to the Three Broomsticks for Butterbeers, and Tempest couldn't help looking around, hoping to see Hagrid somewhere. She didn't however.

"Doesn't he ever go into the office?" Hermione whispered to Tempest suddenly, "Look!"

Tempest looked at where Hermione was pointing, and saw Ludo Bagman sitting in a shadowy corner talking to a group of rather menacing looking goblins.

"It's a Saturday Hermione," Tempest muttered back, but she did agree that it was odd that Bagman was here at the Three Broomsticks when there was no Triwizard Tournament task yet… and no judging.

Bagman looked tired, Tempest noted, rather strained, like he had been after the Dark Mark at the Quiddtich cup.

Just then though, Bagman glanced up, saw Tempest, and stood up.

"In a moment, in a moment!" Tempest heard him say brusquely to the goblins, and he hurried through the pub towards Tempest, his boyish grin back in place.

"Tempest!" he said, "How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going alright?"

Tempest glanced at him, seeing his eyes flicker slightly to Draco, and she felt slightly annoyed- _yes_ she was dating Draco Malfoy, _yes_ it was a controversial topic- _who cared?_ It was _her _business, no-one else's!

"Fine." Tempest replied.

"Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Tempest?" said Bagman eagerly. "Could you give us a moment you two, could you?"

"Alright," Hermione said standing, but Draco took a while longer, glancing at Tempest, almost as if asking –you alright?- Tempest nodded, rather grateful for the gesture, and then the two of them left.

Bagman led Tempest over along the bar until they were at the end furthest from Madam Rosemerta.

"I just thought I'd congratulate you again on your splendid performance against that Horntail, Tempest," said Bagman. "Really superb."

_Apart from the fact that I got shredded almost in half?_ Said Tempest silently, then just decided to nod. She assumed Bagman was about to get to the point, because he wouldn't have taken her aside to just congratulate her would he?

He didn't seem to be in a hurry to spill though, and Tempest saw him glance across the bar at the goblins, who were staring at the two of them with flat dark eyes.

"Absolute nightmare," Bagman said to Tempest in an undertone, noticing Tempest watching the goblins too. "Their English isn't too good … it's like being back with all the Bulgarians at the Quidditch World Cup … but at least they used sign language another human could recognize. This lot keep gabbling in Gobbledegook … and I only know one word of Gobbledegook. Bladvak. It means 'pickaxe.' I don't like to use it in case they think I'm threatening them." He gave a short booming laugh.

Tempest didn't' like what he was implying about goblins- it was like what Hermione said about house-elves all over again- non-humans being treated like they were lesser than humans.

"You could try, _'Gazzar blann vaknar yeaan, hamnn Gobblegooke yazar.'_" Tempest suggested, remembering a scrap of Gobbledegook from one of the books in Minnie's small library at her house. "It means, Esteemed acquaintances, I do not speak Gobbledegook."

Bagman laughed again, "I'll remember that…"

"What do they want anyway?" Tempest asked, noticed how the goblins were watching Bagman like he was a convicted criminal.

"Er well…" Bagman looked nervous all of a sudden. "They're looking for Barty Crouch."

"Crouch?" Tempest blinked. "Why here? He's in London at the Ministry isn't he?"

"Er … as a matter of fact, I've no idea where he is," said Bagman. "He's sort of … stopped coming to work. Been absent for a couple of weeks now. Young Percy, his assistant, says he's ill. Apparently he's just been sending instructions in by owl. But would you mind not mentioning that to anyone Tempest? Because Rita Skeeter's still poking around everywhere she can, and I'm willing to bet she'd work up Barty's illness into something sinister. Probably say he's gone missing like Bertha Jorkins."

Tempest remembered Ron muttering something to Seamus about Percy fretting over Crouch, but that was all. He couldn't have gone missing right…?

"Have you heard anything from Bertha Jorkins by the way?" Tempest asked.

"No," Bagman said, looking strained again. "I've got people looking of course…" (_About time,_ Tempest thought,)

"-it's all very strange. She definitely arrived in Albania, because she met her second cousin there. And then she left the cousin's house to go south and see an aunt … and she seems to have vanished without trace en route. Blowed if I can see where she's got to … she doesn't seem the type to elope, for instance … but still … What are we doing, talking about goblins and Bertha Jorkins? I really wanted to ask you" – he lowered his voice – "how are you getting on with your golden egg?"

"I'm fine," Tempest said firmly. After all, she was going to give the egg a shot that night…

"Are you sure- I've taken a liking to you Tempest- the way you defeated that dragon-"

"We're supposed to work out the clues alone, aren't we?" Tempest said, careful to keep her voice casual and not sound as though she was accusing the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports of breaking the rules.

"Well yes…" Bagman trailed off.

"So thank you," Tempest said, "but I really am fine, thank you again."

Bagman looked disappointed, but he couldn't say anything else as Fred and George appeared by Tempest's side suddenly. "Hello Mr Bagman," Fred said brightly, "Can we buy you a drink?"

"Er- no," Bagman said hurriedly, with a disappointed glance at Tempest, almost as though she had let him down. "No, thank you boys, I must run…"

He hurried out of the pub, and Tempest saw the goblins follow him.

Fred and George looked just as disappointed as they looked after Bagman's disappearing figure. "Well… see you Tempest," George said, as the twins left the room too.

Tempest went over to re-join Hermione and Draco, rather confused by the events.

"What did he want?" Hermione asked as Tempest sat down.

"He offered to help me with my golden egg," Tempest said.

"He shouldn't be doing that!" said Hermione, looking very shocked. "He's one of the judges! I don't think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat!"

Tempest shrugged. "Well I didn't accept, so it's alright- what's wrong?" she asked Draco, who had pulled a face.

"Nothing," he said, then elaborated. "Just my father doesn't like Bagman- he's a fool who has too big a mouth, in his words."

Tempest grimaced. "Sounds about right."

"What were the goblins doing here anyway? They didn't look friendly," Hermione asked.

"Looking for Crouch, according to Bagman, he's still ill, hasn't been into work." Said Tempest.

"Odd," Draco frowned. "Goblins would usually go to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, not Crouch."

Tempest shrugged. "Crouch can speak tonnes of languages though- Percy said, maybe they need an interpreter."

Draco still didn't look convinced. "They have wizards like that in that department- and some speak even more languages- they must want him for a different reason-"

He broke off as Tempest cursed, ducking her head, hissing something to Hermione. "Skeeter."

Rita Skeeter had entered the bar, accompanied by the paunchy photographer, dressed in banana-yellow robes with nails that were painted a shocking pink. She bought drinks, then sat down nearby, apparently not noticing Tempest- something she was grateful for- even though she badly wanted to hex the woman.

"… didn't seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think?"

Tempest scoffed inwardly. "He's met you! That's probably why!"

"- And what's he doing with a pack of goblins in town anyway? Showing them the sights … what nonsense … he was always a bad liar. Reckon something's up? Think we should do a bit of digging? 'Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman … ' Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo – we just need to find a story to fit it – "

Tempest couldn't stand it any longer. She didn't like Bagman, but she hated Skeeter even more. "Going to ruin someone else's life?" Tempest said loudly.

Some people in earshot turned around, while Skeeter's eyes widened behind her jewelled spectacles as she saw who had spoken. "Tempest!" she beamed, "How lovely! Why don't you come and join-"

Tempest scoffed. "I'd sooner join a table of Skrewts- Why did you do that to Hagrid huh?"

Skeeter raised her heavily pencilled eyebrows. "Our readers have a right to the truth Tempest, I am merely doing my-"

"Yeah right," Tempest snapped, "More like you want a good story for publicity- who cares if Hagrid's a half-giant? He's still the same person, and there's nothing wrong with him!"

Rita Skeeter's smile flickered very slightly, but she hitched it back almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulled out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and said, "How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Tempest. After he rescued you from those awful muggles you live with, did he become a father substitute for you? Do you sometimes wish he was?"

Skeeter pouted, and Tempest had her wand out before she knew it- the bar went silent.

Tempest had forgotten that that was the cover story Dumbledore had fed to the outside Wizarding world, and that no-one save for a select few knew she was living with Minnie, but the assumption that Skeeter was making made her tremble with rage.

"Shut up." Tempest forced out through gritted teeth, "You're a horrible woman- Hagrid's a saint compared to you- you're a horrible, conniving, gossip-hungry… _witch,_" Tempest badly wanted to swear, but she was shaking with so much rage, she was afraid that she would lose it. "You don't care about anyone but yourself- anything or anyone for a story will do won't they? Me, Hagrid- even Bagman-"

"You silly girl," Skeeter said, her voice silky smooth and dangerous- like Snape's, only Tempest hadn't actually ever hated Snape- even after all the years of point deductions and insults from him- as much as she hated Skeeter. "Don't talk about things you don't understand, I could spout tales about everyone close to you that would make your hair stand on end- not, that it needs it," Skeeter added, eyeing Tempest's scraggly hair.

"Tempest, let's go-" Hermione said, tugging on Tempest's arm, shooting a glare at Skeeter.

Still trembling, Tempest shoved her way through the room, almost kicking the door to the Three Broomsticks open and stalking out into the snow, ignoring the biting cold that cut into her.

She glanced back slightly, and saw an acid-green quill zooming across a piece of parchment while the rest of the bar gapped at her back.

"Tempest, she'll be after you now-" Hermione began, but Tempest cut her off before the words had barely left her mouth.

"You think I care? Let her try! I'll show her- thinks she can go around writing tales about Hagrid and whoever she chooses- I tell you, I'll shove her off the Astronomy tower myself-"

"Tempest, Skeeter could write thousands of more tales about you just to get you back-"

"I don't care!" Tempest burst out, "It can't be worse than anything else she's ever done before- I won't be scared into hiding!" She paused. "And neither should Hagrid! Come on!"

Tempest broke into a run, Hermione following, and she sprinted through the streets of Hogsmeade, back up to the castle, around the side, through the grounds, and straight to Hagrid's cabin.

The curtains were drawn, and Tempest could hear Fang barking as they approached.

"Hagrid!" Tempest yelled, pounding on his front door, "Hagrid, that's enough! We know you are in there! No one cares if you're half-giant Hagrid! I swear, I'll _kill_ that Skeeter woman if it'll make you feel better- now open that door unless you want me to blow it up and come in there and pull your wand out of your-"

The door opened, and Tempest fell a step back as she came face to face with Albus Dumbledore.

"Good afternoon," he said pleasantly, smiling at Tempest.

"Hi!" Tempest said heatedly, her rage burning itself out, and then she said rather quieter- "We wanted to see Hagrid."

"Yes, I summarized as much." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling brightly. "Why don't you come in?"

"Okay," Tempest muttered, entering the cabin, followed by Hermione. Tempest spared a thought for Draco- she must have lost him in her had sprint for Hagrid's hut… Maybe he had gone back to the school.

Fang launched himself at Hermione the moment she entered- he had always like Hermione, who fed him pieces of Hagrid's rock cakes under the table- barking madly and licking her ears.

Hagrid was sitting at his table, where there were two large mugs of tea. He looked a real mess. His face was blotchy, his eyes swollen, and he had gone to the other extreme where his hair was concerned; far from trying to make it behave, it now looked like a wig of tangled wire.

"Hagrid." Tempest said, still shaking slightly as she sat down.

"More tea I think," Dumbledore said, flicking his wand and making a tray of cakes and two more mugs of hot tea appear on the table.

There was a pause while Hermione sat down quietly, and Tempest tried to control her hands from shaking, then Dumbledore spoke up mildly. "Did you happen to hear what Tempest was shouting outside Hagrid?"

Tempest blushed, but Dumbledore smiled at her. "-and although I do not approve of murder," he added, his eyes twinkling ever more brightly, "I must agree with her. It seems that judging by the way she threated to blow up your hut, that she and Miss Granger still seem to want to know you, and I will go out on a limb here and say that the majority of the school feels the same way."

"Yeah!" Tempest said loudly, "of course we still want to know you- you don't think we'd let anything that miserable excuse for a twig waving cow- um, sorry Professor-" Tempest added, glancing at Dumbledore.

"I have gone temporarily deaf, and haven't any idea what you said Tempest," said Dumbledore, twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.

"Er-right," continued Tempest, rather abashedly, "I mean- that Hagrid, how could you think we'd care even a tiny bit about what that- that… that _woman_ wrote about you?"

Hagrid didn't answer, but two fat tears leaked out of Hagrid's eyes and fell slowly into his tangled beard.

"Living proof of what I've been telling you, Hagrid," said Dumbledore, still looking carefully up at the ceiling. "I have shown you the letters from the countless parents who remember you from their own days here, telling me in no uncertain terms that if I sacked you, they would have something to say about it –"

"Not all of 'em," said Hagrid hoarsely. "Not all of 'em wan me ter stay."

"Really, Hagrid, if you are holding out for universal popularity, I'm afraid you will be in this cabin for a very long time," said Dumbledore, now peering sternly over his half-moon spectacles. "Not a week has passed since I became headmaster of this school when I haven't had at least one owl complaining about the way I run it. But what should I do? Barricade myself in my study and refuse to talk to anybody?"

Tempest snorted into her cup of tea, burning herself, and causing Dumbledore to give her a slight smile.

"Yeh- yeh're not half-giant!" said Hagrid croakily.

"Hagrid- remember who I had for relatives? Look at the Dursleys!"

Hagrid blinked several times at Tempest- and Tempest winced inwardly. She hadn't chosen a very good topic. After she had been at Minnie's for a month, she had met Hagrid for the first time, and learnt that once he had heard of what the Dursleys had done to her, he had broken into number 4 Privet Drive and threated the Dursleys to within an inch of their lives. She had always been grateful to the man after that.

"An excellent point," said Professor Dumbledore, and while his tone was calm, Tempest detected a slight hint of steel in it, which quickly faded as he continued. "My own brother, Aberforth, was prosecuted for practicing inappropriate charms on a goat."

Tempest sniggered again, burning her throat this time.

"It was all over the papers, but did Aberforth hide? No, he did not! He held his head high and went about his business as usual! Of course, I'm not entirely sure he can read, so that may not have been bravery…"

Tempest's hand jerked, spilling hot tea over her lap, and she quickly mopped it up, apologizing, trying to stifle her laughter.

"Just come back and teach, Hagrid," Hermione said quietly, "Please come back, it's not the same, and we really miss you."

Hagrid gulped. More tears leaked out down his cheeks and into his tangled beard. Dumbledore stood up. "I refuse to accept your resignation, Hagrid, and I expect you back at work on Monday," he said. "You will join me for breakfast at eight-thirty in the Great Hall. No excuses. Good afternoon to you all."

Dumbledore left the cabin, pausing only to scratch Fang's ears. When the door had shut behind him, Hagrid began to sob into his dustbin-lid-sized hands. Hermione kept patting his arm, and at last, Hagrid looked up, his eyes very red indeed, and said, "Great man, Dumbledore … great man …"

Tempest remembered Minnie telling her about how Dumbledore had made the necessary arrangements for Tempest to move out of the Dursleys, and gone to great lengths to ensure the Ministry of Magic didn't learn of it so that Tempest could live with Minnie in peace… In a way, she owed Dumbledore just as much as Minnie- if not more… "Yeah," Tempest agreed, thinking back to the joyful sunlit day when she had left behind the Dursleys- the people who hadn't even told her, her own _name_ for ten years… "Yeah, he really is."

More tears leaked out of Hagrid's eyes, but he wiped them away more forcefully, and said, "Never shown you a picture of my old dad, have I? Here …"

Hagrid got up, went over to his dresser, opened a drawer, and pulled out a picture of a short wizard with Hagrid's crinkled black eyes, beaming as he sat on top of Hagrid's shoulder.

Hagrid was a good seven or eight feet tall, judging by the apple tree beside him, but his face was beardless, young, round, and smooth - he looked hardly older than eleven.

"Tha was taken jus' after I got inter Hogwarts," Hagrid croaked. "Dad was dead chuffed … thought I migh' not be a wizard, see, 'cos me mum … well, anyway. 'Course, I never was great shakes at magic, really … but at least he never saw me expelled. Died, see, in me second year …"

Tempest swallowed back the sudden emotion that rose up in her. It must have been terrible for Hagrid to lose his father like that- and know what he was missing, what he was now without… But then he had a chance to _know _his father- whereas Tempest had had none- no memories of her family, only an empty feeling in her chest of two wonderful people who she'd never known… and Tempest would rather have those few bright memories of her family and the pain that came with it, rather than the empty hole she had- not really knowing what she was mourning for.

"Dumbledore was the one who stuck up for me after Dad went. Got me the gamekeeper job … trusts people, he does. Gives 'em second chances … tha's what sets him apar' from other heads, see. He'll accept anyone at Hogwarts, s'long as they've got the talent. Knows people can turn out okay even if their families weren' … well … all tha' respectable. But some don understand that. There's some who'd always hold it against yeh … there's some who'd even pretend they just had big bones rather than stand up an' say – I am what I am, an' I'm not ashamed."

Tempest remained silent as Hagrid went on- so apparently he did care more about Madame Maxime than he let on. Hermione had said something about them talking- the minor details, but she didn't know that Maxime had brushed Hagrid off like that…

"Never be ashamed,' my ol' dad used ter say, 'there's some who'll hold it against you, but they're not worth botherin' with.' An' he was right. I've bin an idiot. I'm not botherin' with her no more, I promise yeh that. Big bones… I'll give her big bones."

Hermione was scarlet, and Tempest merely looked at the picture of the eleven-year-old Hagrid standing with his father, beaming at the camera. She loved seeing that same smile on Hagrid's face when he was happy, and how she had seen an identical one when he had been cooing over the baby dragon first year, or when he had been walking with Madame Maxime when he showed her the challenge for the first task.

Tempest would be having words with that woman if that was all she could do. Tempest didn't play matchmaker- she thought it was a waste of time- but _no-one_ would hurt Hagrid like that.

"Yeh know wha, Tempest?" Hagrid said, looking up from the photo, his eyes bright, "Yeh remind me o' me a bit. Mum an' Dad gone, an' everyone's always looking at yeh for one reason or 'nother, people always callin' you names… you and tha' Malfoy- I migh' not like his father or 'im that much, but 'm willing to give him a chance- prove tha' people are wrong, tha' they can change. I jus' wanted to say Tempest, yeh show them- you show everyone that they're wrong, alrigh? You don't be ashamed of your choices, and don' let anyone else tell yeh different."

Tempest nodded, chest feeling oddly constricted, and she leant over and hugged Hagrid, Hermione doing the same, and even though it was _her_ trying to cheer up Hagrid, as Tempest and Hermione left, Tempest couldn't help but feel lighter too.

Tempest and Hermione ran into Draco in the entrance hall, and his hair was sticking up almost as messily as Tempest's, his robes smoking slightly.

"What happened to you?" Tempest exclaimed, blinking at Draco.

"Oh, you know," Draco shrugged. "Just- was delayed in Hogsmeade."

Tempest eyed him sceptically. "Really?" she drawled.

"Oh fine-" Draco rolled his eyes at Tempest, "If you must know, I stayed behind and hexed Skeeter so badly I don't think she'll be seen in public for a while at least."

Tempest gazed at him in shock. "What did you do?"

"Nothing really… Just a few well-placed jinx's… and Skeeter may be walking around bald for a while I suppose… I might have burnt all the hair off her scalp-"

Draco was cut off as Tempest leapt at him, throwing her arms around his neck, and in full view of the Great hall, kissed him full on the mouth.

Hagrid was right. People could change- change for the better, and right then and there, Tempest believed Hagrid wholeheartedly, and she decided that as of then, she wouldn't let anyone make her regret her choices.

Just to prove everyone wrong.


	9. Chapter 9

C9: Wrong:

The cheers were deafening all around Tempest, and after Ginny's initial shock, she flung her arms around Tempest-the-dolphin's neck.

"You did it Tempest!" Ginny cheered, almost strangling Tempest in the progress.

Tempest grinned as best she was able, chirping a reply, then flicked her wand at herself, feeling heat like liquid fire flare across her skin, and then she was a human again, treading water, hanging on to Ginny- who she knew couldn't swim.

"You alright though Ginny? They had you tied to a statue thing-"

"Trust you Tempest to worry about me- m' fine, Professor Dumbledore cast some kind of sleeping spell on us- but did you come first?" Ginny hurried on.

Tempest sighed as she began to swim with slow steady strokes to the platform near water level, where she assumed the champions were meant to go.

"No," Tempest replied, trying to ignore Ginny's vice like grip on her left arm. "I'm guessing Viktor and Cedric already got their 'possession'… do you know who they were rescuing?"

Ginny spluttered as she accidently swallowed a mouthful of salt water. "Yeah… For Krum it was Hermione- no surprises there, and for Diggory it was Chang, the girl you were up against third year… Ravenclaw seeker."

Tempest nodded, not very surprised by either. "Yeah… so I came in third I guess… Fleur's sister- I suppose it was her sister after all, well she was still tied to the statue, so I guess she will be last-"

"But she's on the platform!" Ginny exclaimed, pointing forwards.

Tempest's head snapped up, trying to see Fleur's mane of silvery blond hair on the platform… there! The girl was talking very fast to Madame Maxime, gesturing wildly, obviously upset about something… why was she there? She hadn't rescued her sister yet…

Reaching the platform, Tempest let Ginny clamper up first, seeing Percy hurry forwards, grabbing Ginny, draping her with a towel and haul her off, muttering worriedly to himself, before heaving herself out of the water with the aid of half a dozen other hands that extended to help her.

As a human again, the water was frigid, and Tempest began shivering violently, gratefully grabbing a warm towel Madam Pomfrey offered her, then a thick blanket from Hermione, who hurried up, her hair wet from the water. "Tempest!" Hermione exclaimed, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," Tempest managed, her teeth chattering together.

"That was brilliant magic!" Hermione enthused, bouncing up and down slightly, "I expect Professor McGonagall was so proud of you- your dolphin was perfect! Viktor rescued me first-" she blushed slightly at the words, but continued regardless, "-he had transfigured himself into half a shark… I mean, it was impressive too, but yours was better- don't tell him I said that…"

Tempest managed a laugh, then nodded over to where Fleur was hurrying over to them. "What happened to Fleur?"

Hermione followed Tempest's gaze. "Oh, she got caught by the grindylows, she was hysterical when they pulled her out- she took the song very seriously it seems… I mean, it's past an hour, you were just outside the time limit- a few minutes after Cedric, and Fleur thinks her sister's hurt- or worse… here she comes…"

Fleur descended on Tempest just as Hermione finished talking, gibbering out long streams of French and English, which went something along the lines of both inquiring after her sister, bouts of hysterics, meaningless words, more gibberish, and a final beseeching look.

Rather taken aback, Tempest managed to clear her mind to reply. "Fleur, calm down, your sister's fine- the song just talked about a time limit- Dumbledore would never harm a student, or person- much less your little sister- and I even cast a Bubble-Head charm on her, just to make sure she was alright- the mermaids didn't stop me-"

Tempest broke off as Fleur rushed forwards and embraced her, squeezing the air out of Tempest's lungs.

"Oh Merci, oh Merci! Thank you Tempest! -Madame!" Fleur released a winded Tempest and hurried back over to Madame Maxime, once again going off in a long stream of French.

Shaking her head slightly, Tempest turned back to look at Hermione. "So, what did I miss?"

Hermione shrugged slightly, adjusting her own towel around her shoulders. "Not much really Tempest, I mean, I just woke up around ten minutes ago and came face to face with a shark head- that was what Viktor tried to transfigure himself into- I guess it did work… somewhat. In any case, he was first, but I think they'll take off marks for incomplete transfiguration- Cedric was next with Cho, using the bubble-head charm… he was I think four minutes ahead of you… then Fleur got pulled out of the water, hysterical, and then it was you and Ginny- but you might still be able to hold your first place in the tournament, Tempest, after all, that was _amazing_ magic- seventh year magic in fact, even if you were technically third- and-"

"Hermione!" Tempest said, holding up her hands, "That's a lot to take in! Just- slow down a bit!"

"Oh," Hermione visibly deflated. "Right, well- yeah, that's mainly it Tempest… We just need to wait for them to pull Fleur's sister out, and then they'll give us the scores…"

Tempest stood, thanking Madame Pomfrey who came hurrying to her side like an oversized mother hen, and glanced around, rather half-heartedly looking for Draco.

She knew he probably wasn't allowed on the platform, but she hadn't seen him since around three last night, and she was worried…

She didn't see Draco, but she did see Fleur hurrying over to her sister, who was standing, dripping wet by Madame Maxime and begin fussing over her. She could see Krum also talking with Karkaroff, but he kept on shooting Hermione covert glances. Cedric, Tempest couldn't see, but she could see Dumbledore crouching by the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak Mermish. Finally he straightened up, turned to his fellow judges, and said, "A conference before we give the marks, I think."

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey force fed Tempest and Hermione Pepper up Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and her sister. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to clean them.

She appeared to be apologizing profusely to her sister, and Madame Maxime both.

Tempest would have continued looking around, but just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and the stands go quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Mer-chieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows …

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

There was applause from the stands.

"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head, and Tempest saw Madame Maxime give Fleur a reproving look.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was second to return with his hostage, reaching the surface with his hostage several minutes outside the time limit. We therefore award him forty six points."

There were deafening cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd, and the majority of the Hogwarts students cheered too. Catching a glimpse of Cedric near the judges, Tempest saw him beaming at Cho, who was by his side.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was netherless effective, and was first to return with his hostage within the time limit. We award him forty-eight points."

Hermione beamed, and applauded loudly- only Karkaroff seemed to be clapping harder than her- then shooting Tempest a slightly guilty look, as though apologizing for clapping for her boy-friend.

Tempest didn't really mind- had it been Draco, she would have too…

"Tempest Potter also used an excellent example of transfiguration-" Bagman continued, "Returning last, and ten minutes outside of the time limit- however due to her impressive display of magic well beyond her years-"

Tempest scowled slightly- even though Bagman may have been trying to be flattering, Tempest couldn't help but feel slightly insulted that he was making her out to be a young girl, out of her depth.

"-and the fact that she stayed underwater for a few more minutes to ensure Miss Gabrielle Delacour's safety, we have decided to award her forty four points."

Tempest blinked, stunned. That put her in second place, tied with Cedric now- and then the cheers from the stands erupted, almost deafening her.

Fleur was clapping very hard, and Krum, who was now standing next to Hermione was rather grudgingly applauding too- to Karkaroff's apparent disapproval- but it was Hermione that was jumping up and down and squealing for joy, and Ginny, who launched herself at Tempest, hugging her fiercely, and knocking Tempest back into the water with a terrific splash.

Surfacing though, Tempest couldn't wipe the grin off her face.

~Y.-.Y~

The following few days were somewhat of a blissful blur to Tempest- after all, the next (and final) task was not until June 24th… she could relax for almost a entire four months.

Draco had met Tempest just outside of Hogwarts on her way back up to the school after the Second task, and he had been practically giddy with happiness for Tempest, then told her she made a very cute dolphin, then kissed her.

Needless to say, it had been a further ten minutes until Tempest could remember to ask where he had been.

However Draco had then skilfully evaded the question- and Tempest, not being one to pry- decided to let it go. After all, everyone had secrets of their own, she would know, she had so many, she suffered the risk of them all slipping out every moment she opened her mouth.

But with the exception of Draco's mysterious whereabouts, Tempest floated on a cloud of contentment.

She had had a reply from Sirius that was almost as short as the previous: _Be at the stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can._

Tempest was confused, and instantly made a mental note to talk to Dobby, then the full implications of the message hit her.

"He's not coming back to Hogwarts is he?" Tempest exclaimed, turning to Hermione anxiously.

Hermione, having read the letter over Tempest's shoulder shook her head very slowly. "Judging by that Tempest, I'd say he is… but then there aren't any more Dementors patrolling the place, and well, he'll be careful after all- he's hardly likely to go around flaunting the fact that he's there…"

Tempest stuffed the letter into the pocket of her robes, and stood up. She _was _looking forward to see Sirius- so much in fact, that if it would speed up time, she would have burst through the doors of the Great Hall and shot down to Hogsmeade that very moment, just to see him.

They had double potions, but as Tempest walked by the Slytherin table, (Draco must have already gone down to the dungeons because he wasn't in sight,) something hit the side of her head, making her drop her bag.

Stooping to pick it up, Tempest saw a copy of the Witch Weekly open on the ground, and Pansy Parkinson smirking at her at the Slytherin table.

"What?" Tempest snapped, glaring at the girl.

Parkinson, to Tempest's annoyance merely cackled, and gestured at the cop of the Witch Weekly that Tempest was holding.

"Something might interest you in there," Pansy smirked, before flouncing off with a pair of her Slytherin friends.

Frowning, Tempest looked at the page which was dog-eared.

There was a colour photograph of Tempest at the Yule Ball with Draco, headed by a title: _Tempestas Potter's Misguided Love._

_Tempestas Potter- or Tempest as she prefers, is perhaps a girl like no other- but a girl who suffers all the usual heartaches of adolescent girls, writes Rita Skeeter. Ever since her parents tragic demise, deprived of love, Tempest Potter has apparently found solace in her boyfriend at Hogwarts, Pure-Blood Draco Malfoy._

_However, as new intelligence informs us, it appears that although Tempest is openly smitten with Mr Malfoy, the feelings are not the same in reverse._

_Hardly an attractive sight at most times, Tempest Potter fell for the first person of the opposite sex to pay her the slightest attention, even if the feelings are not genuine._

_"It was a bet," admits Draco Malfoy when approached. "Maybe it went too far when she took me seriously, but I'm trying to find a way to break up with her… she tends to get rather emotional…"_

_Further research finds this statement to be hardly surprising. Draco Malfoy has been the steady boyfriend of Pansy Parkinson- a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student- for far longer than Tempest Potter, and Tempest, after the previous few stressful years- the escape of Sirius Black, rumours at Hogwarts during her second year and the destruction of the Philosopher's stone in her first year, may have become very dependent on others, and perhaps mentally unstable at times._

_In fact, Draco Malfoy is not the first boy Tempest has been dependant on, nor the first one to hold her flighty heart._

_Many students at Hogwarts attest to the fact that Tempest is rarely seen out of company with the Weasley boys- and all seem rather enamoured by her._

_"It serves her right for Draco leading her on," says Pansy Parkinson, "after all, she seems to be running around doing the exact same thing to all the other guys- it's time for her to have a dose of her own medicine."_

_Of course, while Tempest Potter's status in the Wizarding world is outstanding, perhaps it would be prudent for her to rethink her current lifestyle, lest she find herself in a situation with the tables reversed._

The newspaper crackled as Tempest laid it out on the nearest (Slytherin) table, flattening the edges before very carefully ripping the front page off and folding the rest up into half, then quarters, then eighths, and sixteenths…

"Hedgy?" George asked, approaching from behind her.

"Tempest…" Hermione began.

"Hello," Tempest said to George before shoving the folded paper at Hermione and still holding the torn page, she walked composedly out of the Great Hall, heading down to the dungeons- only not to Snape's dungeon- but to the Slytherin Common room where she knew Draco would be…

"Phineas." Tempest snapped to the wall, and it slip open, and then there was Draco, standing in the empty common room, turning to face her.

"Good morning," Tempest said blandly.

"Morn-"

"Have you read the _Witch Weekly_ recently?"

"Well-"

"While you're just mulling over some cute response, why don't you read this for inspiration?"

Draco's eyes skimmed over the paper that Tempest thrust at him, his face darkening as he read on, and Tempest felt a flare of hope that maybe it wasn't true- it was just Skeeter's revenge for Tempest yelling at her, and Draco hexing her bald…

Except then Draco looked up, and instead of being furious, or emotionless, or even sheepish, he was smirking.

Only it wasn't the smile that he used to use on Tempest, the genuine smile that reached right up to his clear blue eyes, but a rather cynical sneering one- the one he had used for the past few years...

"Well," he shrugged carelessly, "I guess the game's up."

Tempest didn't think she had walked through any of Fred and George's prank doors , but apparently a bucket of icy water had just been dumped over her head. "Oh okay, just clearing that up- I'll be kinda going now- you know, Gryffindor in the Slytherin quarters…" she grimaced, "see you in potions… oh and we're breaking up now… yeah."

If Draco had become blank and emotionless, then rejected Tempest coldly, it would have been simple- easy to believe that he was lying, breaking up with Tempest for a perhaps stupid self-sacrificing notion. Only he didn't.

Tempest gave Malfoy a parting smile that was only slightly too wide, and left.

The wall slid back into place behind her, and for a moment, Tempest merely stood there.

"Huh."

She slumped against a separate part of the wall, and stared up at the celling. "Great going, Tempest."

The wall slid aside and Malfoy stepped out.

Tempest sighed heavily and pulled herself off the wall.

"Still here?" Malfoy said, a smirk twisting its way across his face.

"Yeah," Tempest said, shrugging, "I'm just feeling a bit needy and emotional at the moment, I'm sure you'll forgive me for _lingering…_"

Malfoy laughed, "No, no, of course. It can be trying after all… you thought it was real and that I actually fancied you?" Draco snorted. "Look Potter, get real. Why on earth would I fancy you? Stuck up fame-soaked Gryffindor who hangs out with Mudbloods and filth- and it's not like you're very pretty either- it was almost funny how easily you soaked up everything I told you- Pansy almost wet herself laughing when I told her."

"Well it's nice to know that you have other hobbies than fishing for that stick up your ass," Tempest drawled.

And then she was shoved roughly back into the stone wall, with Malfoy gripping her shoulders and shaking her, sneering in her face. "Look _Potter_, you think just because I paid enough attention to supposedly date you, it makes you _special? _I've done it dozens of times before- what do you think makes _you_ so different? Just because you supposedly defeated the Dark Lord, just because everyone fawns over you with sympathy because of your dead parents, you think you're separate from the rest?"

Tempest barely heard the words.

"Let me go." Tempest said slowly and precisely, hoping with whatever pride she had left that her voice did not tremble- did not betray the fear that was coursing through her veins

She couldn't reach her wand, and with Malfoy (as prissy as they had called him in the past) stronger than her, she was virtually helpless. How many times had she been in that situation? A broken dish, Petunia yelling at her while Vernon beat her, and there was nothing Tempest could do- the many times Dudley had cornered her, and while his brutish friends held her down, he hit her- a girl, and several months younger than him.

Malfoy let her go, and Tempest straightened up, swallowing. "So… this was fun," she stated, then without glancing back, she walked off down through the now-empty corridors (classes must have started already) and after an indefinite amount of time, Tempest found herself in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Moaning Myrtle wasn't there, something Tempest was rather grateful, and she didn't know why she was there, and not heading to Snape's dungeon for Potions, which she knew she was late for, but she didn't really care much, she would be late regardless whether or not she went there immediately or dawdled in the bathroom. She really should be going though… Glancing for no reason at all at the bathroom mirrors lining the walls, Tempest thought she looked sufficiently normal. The only differences between her usual appearance and now was that her already pale skin was a shade whiter and her eyes were scared.

_Scared._

Tempest scoffed, pacing closer to the mirror. "Don't be stupid," she said out loud. "You've killed a bloody basilisk… you get pinned to a wall-wow that sounds wrong- and now all of a sudden you look like you just met its ghost…"

In other words, she looked like she was going to burst out crying any second- and Tempest _never_ cried. It didn't help a situation, _that_ she had learnt from the Dursleys… she _never_ cried. Least of all for _Malfoy_.

It was a promise.

A promise that she would never shed a single tear over Draco-_bloody_-Malfoy.

"Yup." Tempest said, taking a breath. "_Okay…_ Let's go get yelled at by Snape… You're already talking to yourself… universally not a great sign, Tempest."

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest knew she was late, almost fifteen minutes late by then, but found she wouldn't mind the detention as much as she previously would have.

She pushed the door to the Snape's dungeon open, and instantly from the Slytherin side of the room, dozens of new **POTTER STINKS** badges flashed at her, and Tempest shoved down the flare of indignation as she saw Dra- no, _Malfoy_, sitting at Pansy Parkinson's side, smirking at her, also sporting a badge.

"Miss Potter," Snape drawled from the front of the room. "How kind of you to join us-" he glanced upwards briefly to examine the clock, "-sixteen minutes late. Ten points from Gryffindor, now take your seat."

There was no room beside Ron and Hermione, and Tempest didn't really want to sit next to them anyway, to face their pitying looks, and Ron's not-so-subtle mouthing of the words, '_what happened?_'

Nor did she want to sit at the empty desks in the middle of the room where she used to sit with Malfoy.

There was only one other option, and it was the desk right in front of Snape.

Mentally shrugging and yelling that she _did not give a damn_ what anyone thought of her, much less Malfoy, Parkinson or Snape, Tempest strode up through the rows of desks and cauldrons flatly returning the stares everyone was giving her.

She dropped her bag down next to the desk, pulling out her books roughly and barely glancing at the instructions on the board before beginning to haphazardly measure beetle's eyes into her beaker.

She tried to ignore Snape who was sitting barely two meters away from her now, which was much harder than it seemed as he was sneering at her, talking in a low silky tone that was just as dangerous as Parseltounge.

"So, yet again Miss Potter, you seem to have a knack for dramatic entrances." Snape said, as Tempest poured the beetle's eyes into her cauldron, stirring too vigorously than the recipe required, burning hate searing through her mind- only Tempest wasn't sure who it was directed at. She hadn't known it was possible to feel this much hate, and never before directed at one person.

"Be assured that while others may let your impudence and absolute disregard for rules slip, you are nothing but a girl with an over-inflated head who considers the rules beneath her."

Tempest was now crushing her beetles- she had already caught up with most of the class, and she had begun fifteen minutes after them.

"-and regardless, if you turn up late in my class again, I will not hesitate to give you detention and fifty points from Gryffindor."

Tempest was now concentrating on mixing her unicorn tears with willow leaves, burning a hole in the bowl with the exertion of keeping her eyes downward, and not looking up and meeting Snape's gaze. He was just trying to provoke her- probably to humiliate her in front of the whole class- as if it hadn't happened already.

A sudden wave of hatred crashed down on Tempest, a complete lack of patience- would the man just _shut up?_

"And so, if I ever find you in my office ever again, believe me, I will-"

Tempest 's hand slipped, and she almost dropped the bowl into the cauldron too. Almost slamming the bowl back down onto her desk, Tempest couldn't reign in her voice any longer.

"I haven't been anywhere _near_ your office, _Sir,_ and quite honestly I have no interest in your office whatsoever-"

Tempest almost didn't recognize her voice. It didn't sound angry, it sounded flat and unlike her.

"Do not lie to me," Snape hissed, "Boomslang skin, unicorn hair? Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them."

Tempest stared back at him. Boomslang skin she hadn't stolen personally- that was Hermione back in second year to make Polyjuice potion, but Tempest _had_ stolen the unicorn hair third year to make a pain reliever for Remus once she had discovered his 'furry little problem'. Only Snape had no way of knowing that, and Tempest hadn't been _near_ his office for the past year in any case.

"You and Miss Granger were out of bed the exact night at the exact _time_ that my office was broken into- and while Mad-Eye Moody may have joined your fan club, I will not tolerate your behaviour! One more night time stroll, and you will pay!"

Tempest finished skinning her roots, dicing them so roughly the squares would vary between large cubes and uneven blobs. "Look, why on earth would I want to be in your office? I've _told _you, and so has Hermione- we don't know how we ended up in that blasted corridor, and quite honestly, I can think of a thousand and one other things that I'd rather spend my time on than attempting to break into your office!"

Snape's eyes flashed, and Tempest thought for a moment that he was about to attack her. His flat black eyes bored into her own as though he was trying to read her mind.

Tempest stared balefully back, she had nothing to hide- nothing except for the fact that she was in contact with Sirius, getting Hermione in trouble, and what had happened with Malfoy….

Snape's head jerked up as there was a knock on the dungeon door, breaking their eye contact, and Tempest felt slightly dizzy, as though she had just surfaced from underwater.

"Enter," Snape snapped, his voice as cold as usual.

The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.

"We need to talk," said Karkaroff abruptly when he had reached Snape. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips; it was as though he were a rather poor ventriloquist.

Tempest ignored the two standing in front of her now, and concentrated on tipping her roots into the cauldron. It was now shimmering a beautiful silver- just as the recipe said it should. Usually, Tempest felt a rush of achievement when she brewed a potion correctly, because it actually required _skill_ and knowledge to get a potion right, and gut instinct to manage to achieve the desired effect… and unlike the others, Tempest didn't really follow the recipe, she invented as she brewed, adjusting the recipe to make it perfect. She always got full marks, even though not a word of praise or points to Gryffindor passed Snape's lips. She had never minded, only let herself enjoy that brief moment of satisfaction, but now she couldn't feel happy at all, only dull as she stared at the light smoke that drifted upwards from the cauldron.

"I'll talk to you after the lesson, Karkaroff," Snape muttered just as quietly, and Tempest had to admit that he was a much better ventriloquist than Karkaroff.

Karkaroff interrupted him. "I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Severus. You've been avoiding me."

_I wonder why that is._ Tempest thought darkly.

"After. The. Lesson." Snape said coldly and precisely.

Tempest finished sprinkling mint leaves over the surface of the silver liquid in her cauldron and glanced up. While Karkaroff looked extremely worried, Snape looked furious.

"What, Potter?" Snape snapped, catching Tempest's glance, and Karkaroff stared at her too.

"Nothing," Tempest muttered, directing her attention back to her cauldron.

Karkaroff hovered behind Snape's desk for the rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Snape from slipping away at the end of class. Personally, Tempest couldn't see why he bothered.

Placing a vial of her potion on Snape's desk at the end of the lesson, Tempest was about to leave when Malfoy swept by, smirking at her.

Tempest smirked back , or at least whatever expression her face was conveying that resembled a smirk. She didn't see Parkinson approaching until the girl had slammed into her, knocking Tempest's books from her grip and sending them tumbling to the floor.

The Slytherins laughed, and Tempest rolled her eyes, sighing, bending down to pick up her books.

One had fallen underneath the desk across from her, and as she crawled underneath it to retrieve her book, she heard Snape and Karkaroff talking.

"What is so urgent?" Tempest heard Snape hiss.

"This," said Karkaroff, and Tempest, who was just straightening, saw Karkaroff pull up the left-hand sleeve of his robe and show Snape something on his inner forearm.

"Well?" said Karkaroff, not seeming to notice Tempest, "Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since-"

"Put it away!" Snape snarled, his eyes scanning the classroom, falling instantly on Tempest, who was still clutching her books to her chest.

Karkaroff, who apparently still hadn't noticed Tempest, kept talking. "But you must have noticed- you have-"

"Later!" spat Snape, "What are you doing, Potter?"

Karkaroff whirled around, his right hand yanking down roughly on his sleeve, and his eyes widened as they met Tempest, but after a moment he seemed to recover, and he sent Snape a final worried and frustrated glance, before turning on his heel and striding out of the dungeons.

"Picking up my books Professor." Tempest replied, shoving the ones she was holding into her bag.

"Well, then, get out!" Snape snapped, turning back to his desk, and straightening out a few papers.

Tempest didn't exactly relish the thought of staying, and she walked out of the room quickly, slowing once she reached the outside corridor. She didn't want to talk to Ron or Hermione, well, she didn't want to talk to anyone really.

It was funny, sort of, in a twisted sort of way that Tempest was the one that had stopped caring- and it was the other thousand or so people in the school who had no other purpose in life than to paw over her 'failed love life.'

At the end of the day, Tempest didn't go to the Great Hall for dinner, the stares and whispers fraying at her nerves until she didn't actually _care_ in any way about her and Malfoy's ended relationship (_except a part of her that Tempest would not acknowledge _did _care_) just wanted to talk to someone who wouldn't paw over her.

Fred and George sprung to mind, but Tempest didn't know where they were at the moment, and couldn't be bothered to go looking- then Sirius, but she couldn't reach him.

Tempest wound up in the kitchens, not exactly sure why she was there- perhaps just in need of a smiling face, of the cheerful chattering of the house elves as they went about their business, of people who wouldn't whisper behind their hands at her or shoot her wary or pitying glances.

Tempest stepped through the portrait frame into the kitchens, instantly surrounded by the warmth of the kitchens.

Dobby came hurrying towards Tempest, almost as soon as she stepped through the frame.

"Tempest Potter! This is a great honour! What can Dobby do for Tempest Potter? Is she wanting anything in particular?"

Tempest warded off Dobby's words absentmindedly, the cheerfulness welcoming, and yet grating n Tempest's nerves at the same time.

"Hi Dobby," Tempest managed, glancing around and relaxing slightly. "I was wondering- I didn't feel like having dinner in the Great Hall tonight- personal reasons-" Tempest added hurriedly seeing Dobby's concerned look, "and I was hoping that maybe I could stay here and maybe catch a bite to eat?"

Dobby immediately beamed from ear to ear.

"Dobby would be happy to let Tempest Potter stay! What would Miss like to eat?" Dobby chattered, waving a few of the other house elves over.

Tempest glanced at the elves, all of which were staring at her reverently.

"Uh, I, I guess I just, maybe some… I'm good with whatever you've got." Tempest stuttered.

The elves didn't seem disheartened at all, and Dobby pulled out a chair at one of the many tables lining the room, gesturing at Tempest to sit while the rest of the elves hurried off.

Tempest didn't see Winky anywhere, and she repeated her query to Dobby.

Dobby's expression became grave.

"Dobby does not know where Winky is Miss, Winky is not being a good house-elf, Winky is disappearing places, Miss, and she is always coming back drunk! We are all ashamed of her, miss, and she is always crying too, she is missing her old master Mr Crouch, miss… I is hearing her talking when she sleeps, she is always saying 'I am sorry, I will keep your secrets,' and Dobby is thinking that Winky needs to get over Mr Crouch and be happy as a free elf!"

Tempest wondered absentmindedly about what secrets Winky was being asked to keep, but then roast chicken with potatoes and all the fixings appeared in front of her, and she had to concentrate on eating.

"Hey Dobby," Tempest said, all of a sudden remembering Sirius's letter. "I was wondering if I could have a little extra food packed up? I have a… friend who might need some- they're staying outside the castle, but-"

Dobby was nodding even before Tempest finished. "Of course Tempest Potter! Dobby would be happy to! How much would miss like?"

Tempest thought for a moment, still chewing on a piece of chicken. "I guess… just enough to carry in a package that wouldn't look to suspicious. The person didn't say exactly how much they wanted…"

Dobby nodded and hurried away, and Tempest busied herself in eating. The food was excellent, and she enjoyed the busy hum of the elves chatter around her and the warmth and welcoming atmosphere.

It was so unlike outside, and Tempest wished the moment could last longer. However, of course, she couldn't stay there the entire night… but neither did she want to return upstairs to her dormitory.

As Dobby returned with a huge wrapped package that was bigger than his entire head, Tempest cautiously broached the topic. "Um Dobby, I'm sorry to bother you again, but I was wondering- do you know any places apart from the Gryffindor quarters where I might be able to spend the night? For the same reasons that I didn't want to eat up with the rest of the students-"

"Dobby is always happy to do whatever miss Tempest asks," Dobby replied instantly, his huge eyes shining, and Tempest remembered with a rush of chagrin that Dobby used to be Malfoy's house-elf.

"And I is knowing the perfect place! We is calling it the Come and Go room, miss, or as the Room of Requirement! It is sometimes there, sometimes not…"

Tempest blinked startled. "Why?"

"I is not knowing for sure, miss, but I does know that it only appears when one has real need of it. When it does appear it is always equipped for the seeker's needs." Dobby explained, and Tempest's interest was sparked.

"I is using it at the moment, sometimes when Winky is extra drunk than usual, I is taking her there, and I is finding a nice elf-sized bed and an antidote to Butterbeer… If miss is looking for it, it is on the seventh floor corridor-"

"Thank you Dobby," Tempest said earnestly, "Honestly, _thank_ you… I'll, I'll head there now, thank you- for the food… and help."

Saying a hasty goodbye to the elves, Tempest took the parcel they had packed for her and made a mental note to give it to Sirius tomorrow. She knew he wouldn't have asked about something so trivial unless it was urgent after all.

After years of midnight wanderings, Tempest had managed to move about the castle undetected, and reached the seventh floor corridor without any problems.

She didn't want to go back to her dorm- not with Lavender and Paravati who no doubt would be all over her, or Hermione, who would be kind and understanding- but not understand at all, or go past the Gryffindor common room with Ron there… Seamus and Dean… the twins… Ginny…

No. Tempest would rather sleep somewhere else that night. She didn't know how she would be able to avoid everyone for long, but she needed time to just… adjust.

Tempest came face to face with a blank wall.

Remembering what Dobby had said about actual need for the room, Tempest closed her eyes.

_I need a place to stay the night… actually no. I need a place to just… you know what- a padded room would do fine really…_

She gave a dry laugh.

Tempest opened her eyes, and somehow she knew the door would be there- and it was.

It wasn't an elaborate door, just a humble wooden one built into the stone wall where there hadn't been one before.

Tempest grasped the handle and turned it, and stepped through.

It was the Gryffindor fourth year girls dormitories.

_"What?"_

Tempest glanced behind her, then forwards again.

"Interesting."

And she stepped through.

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest woke up.

She wasn't sure what exactly had woken her, but as she exited the Room of Requirement, she realized it was the perfect timing.

It was Saturday, and the Hogsmeade trip.

She was going to be able to see Sirius.

It was around five in the morning, and no-one else was awake as Tempest snuck into the Gryffindor Common room and up into the (real) girl's dormitories.

The hangings were pulled shut around three beds in the dormitory, and only hers was still open, she could hear Lavender's snoring and Hermione's deep breathing as she crept about in the semi-darkness.

"Hey," Tempest said softly as she heard Nyx leap lightly off Tempest's unslept-in bed and wind her way around Tempest's ankles. "I'm just here to get my cloak, Nyx. I don't want people to see me you see- I'll explain it to you later."

Tempest reached her bed, and fishing under her blanket, she retrieved her cloak and bag, stuffing the package of food from last night inside it, giving Jr a kiss on his (still green) nose, then draping the cloak around her shoulders and creeping just as silently out of the room.

Hogwarts in the morning when no-one was about was peaceful, so much so that Tempest could have sworn it was an entirely different place.

There was the occasional hooting of odd owls nesting in the rafters and the haunting wails of Myrtle through the pipes in the walls, but it all seemed part of the school, and to be expected.

Passing the library invisibly though, Tempest saw a pair of two Slytherin boys which dragged Tempest out of the rather peaceful mood Tempest had drifted into.

Malfoy and Zambini were sitting huddled together in the corner of the library, Malfoy gesturing rather frantically, and Zambini looking concerned.

Tempest kept walking.

Tempest spent the rest of the morning until lunchtime wandering the castle invisibly, relishing in the fact that no one stopped her, or glanced at her sideways… or any of it.

The downside though, was that she could hear every single conversation held by passing students- and the majority of them were about her.

Quite plainly from what the other students in the school had interpreted Skeeter's writing they portrayed Tempest as a needy, clingy, emotional, unstable and also slightly two-timing _bitch._

At half-past twelve, Tempest headed down to Hogsmeade still invisible by herself.

It took Tempest almost the half-hour she had until she had to meet Sirius to make her way to the part of Hogsmeade where she had never been before.

The path out of Hogsmeade was a long and winding one, and it led into the wild countryside. There were small cottages dotted here and there, but significantly less than the ones in the centre of Hogsmeade. Tempest was now walking along the foot of the mountain in the shadow of which Hogsmeade was built.

Tempest turned a corner, and there at the stile at the end of the lane, with its front paws on the topmost bar, carrying some newspapers in its mouth was a very large, shaggy black dog…

Tempest felt a smile breaking across her face, the first genuine smile since yesterday morning, and then she had shrugged off her cloak, stuffed it into her bag, and was suddenly running, her feet flying over the dirt road, and the dog was bounding towards her too, and she flung her arms around the dog's neck, not bothered that the dog's fur was matted and tangled, and that it stank and was in a desperate need of a bath, and buried her face in its fur.

"_Hello! _I missed you!" Tempest muttered into the dog's shoulder, and the dog whined in response, licking the side of Tempest's face, making her laugh rather shakily.

When Tempest had let go of the dog, the dog sniffed Tempest's bag eagerly, and glanced around, wagging its tail, then turned away and began trotting away towards the mountain. Tempest followed, hurrying to walk beside the dog, who accepted Tempest's stride easily and adjusted so that they were walking level with each other. The two walked up the mountain, Tempest following the dog as it led her higher and higher, and after what felt like half an hour climbing a rather steep winding path, Tempest and the dog reached a narrow fissure in the rock, the dog squeezing through easily.

Tempest followed cautiously, dropping her bag through first, before following. She found herself in a cool, large, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, was Buckbeak the hippogriff that Tempest and Hermione had saved last year. Half grey horse, half giant eagle, Buckbeak's fierce orange eyes flashed at the sight of Tempest, even though he clearly recognized Tempest (if he hadn't he would have attacked instantly).

Tempest bowed to him just for the sake of peace, and after regarding Tempest imperiously for a moment, he bent his scaly front knees and retreated, settling down on the stone floor of the cave.

Tempest however, had already redirected her attention back to the large bear-sized black dog which had just turned into her godfather.

Tempest let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. She had _missed_ Sirius. She knew she had already said that, but she _had._ She had missed the security that came with being with him, the protectiveness, and the feeling of…

Well Sirius was… Sirius.

Then she looked again, and she saw just how worn Sirius looked, and worry replaced the relief. He was still wearing the same tattered grey robes from Azkaban, his black hair was longer than it had been when he had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy (vying with Tempest's hair in that regard) and matted once more. He was even thinner than before. Thinner even, if possible, than Tempest.

"You look horrible." Tempest stated.

"Yeah?" Sirius croaked, removing the newspapers from his mouth and throwing them down into a corner. "suppose that sort of messes with my devastating good looks, doesn't it?"

Tempest grimaced wordlessly, fishing the package of food out of her bag and handing it to Sirius. "I got food?"

"You're a lifesaver," Sirius muttered, pulling Tempest into a rough one-armed hug.

Tempest could feel his individual ribs and vertebrae through his tattered clothes. "Alright, let me go now- you need to eat, and yeah sure I can let it slide when you're a dog… but merlin, you stink!"

Sirius barked a laugh and sat down on the stone floor as Tempest unslung her bag from her shoulder and glanced around briefly.

Sirius proceeded to tear open the package, and devour the contents. Tempest settled down beside him, watching him attack a leg of chicken which Dobby had packed, then take a swig of Butterbeer from a flask that was also in the package.

"Thanks," Sirius said, through a mouthful of food. "I've been living off rats mostly, can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade, I'd draw attention to myself." He grinned at Tempest, his eyes sparkling with life that Tempest hadn't seen in them before.

"You're an idiot," Tempest said. "And thank you."

"For…"

"For caring enough to be an idiot who lives off rats just to see me."

Sirius chuckled. "You're welcome."

There was a relatively pleasant silence, until Tempest, observing him, spoke. "You look cold. And hungry."

Sirius smiled slightly. "Do I?"

"Yeah, you do," Tempest said seriously, shrugging off her jacket and draping it around Sirius's shoulders. Thankfully, being rather broad-shouldered, Tempest's jacket fit Sirius quite well.

"Oi! No mothering me!" Sirius complained, now stuffing a slice of cake into his mouth, "Who's meant to be the god-parent here?"

Tempest grinned at him. "I'll get back to you on that. On a more serious topic, are you sure it's alright for you to be here? I mean, there's the invisibility cloak- and you were a dog- but-"

"Don't freak," Sirius said, shaking his head, "Part from you- and a couple others no one knows I'm an animagus, I'm just pretending to be a loveable stray…"

"As opposed to wanted mass-murderer." Tempest grinned.

"I think most things are better than that," Sirius replied dryly.

"No argument there," Tempest sighed, leaning backwards. "so why _are _you here, Sirius?"

Sirius paused in the process of stuffing a whole muffin in his mouth. "Your last letter. Things are getting fishier- your last letter- the thing about Snape and Moody- let's just say it doesn't sound much like a holiday card…. And I got the feeling that wasn't the whole story… care to elaborate?"

Tempest wondered just how intuitive Sirius was as she quickly brushed over the details of what she could remember that night.

When she had finished, Sirius had finished eating, and was staring at Tempest with focused attention. "So you remember nothing?" Sirius asked, looking intently at Tempest. "Just exiting the bathroom, then you wake up with Snape leaning over you?"

Tempest grimaced at the rather disturbing mental image. "Wow, put it like that, would you? And yeah, basically- although, I don't know why, but I have a feeling that I saw Mr Crouch on the Marauder's Map before it went missing- even Hermione thinks so too…"

"The map?" Sirius said suddenly, sitting up straighter. "You think the map had Mr Crouch on it?"

"Yes," Tempest frowned, "In Snape's office… I think… and then Moody said something about him being obsessed about catching dark wizards…"

Sirius looked just as confused as Tempest felt. "Well if that's the case, and the map's gone missing… It obviously means that someone doesn't want you tracking their movements around the castle- that map…" he trailed off for a moment. "But Crouch… he's in the papers," he nudged the yellowing papers with his foot. "Deathly ill it says- go on, have a read."

Tempest picked up the papers, straightening them out. As she scanned the two front pages, one about the missing Ministry Witch- with the Minister of Magic now personally involved, and the second about the Mysterious Illness of Bartemius Crouch.

Tempest quickly read over the both, then sat back on her heels. "They make it sound like he's contracted a fatal illness and he's going to die any second… I saw his assistant, Ron's brother at the Yule Ball- he says that Crouch is suffering from overwork and the fact that his house-elf had to be fired… but then if he _was _here, and the map doesn't lie- then…"

Sirius was nodding slowly. "Then why was he here in the middle of the night? You say he sacked his house-elf… why?"

Tempest remembered that Sirius didn't know that part, and quickly gave him the details about Winky being found holding Tempest's wand after the Dark mark had appeared in the sky.

"Yes," Sirius said darkly, "That does sound like him- get rid of anything that might drag his reputation down, he's all for power, in a way maybe just as dangerous as Voldemort, but in an entirely different way- opposites, yet exactly the same…. But he's not acting like usual, not at all, he's all for seeing things through- he goes to all the trouble of reinstating the Triwizard Tournament, but he doesn't bother to come and oversee it... he gets his house-elf to save him a seat at the Cup, but he doesn't even watch… he doesn't take breaks from work Tempest, and an illness… He's have to be actually buried six feet under to stop going to work."

"You seem to know him well," Tempest mused, it did sound like Crouch that Sirius was describing…

Sirius's handsome face darkened until it was downright dangerous, and he looked just as menacing as he had when Tempest had still believed him to be a murderer. "Oh yes," he said quietly, "I know him alright. He was the one who sent me to Azkaban without a trail."

Tempest jerked, "_What_?"

"Could have saved me twelve years in Azkaban if I had been given a trial… could have looked after you…" Sirius said both wistfully and forebodingly, reaching out and ruffling Tempest's hair. "Never left you with those muggles… But it's true. Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, did you know?"

Tempest frowned slightly. Minnie had said something about that a few years back, but no details.

"Well, he was tipped for the next Minister of Magic," Sirius said, interpreting the look on Tempest's face. "He was a great wizard- _is_ a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical- and power-hungry as I said before. Never supported Voldemort-" he said quickly, reading Tempest's face. "No, he was a known hater of the Dark Side- but then most people were back then, it was safer- but then again, it wasn't…"

Tempest held up her hands, "Okay, Sirius, you're losing me here- what do you mean?"

Sirius studied Tempest for a moment, putting down the now empty flask of butterbeer. "You're old enough, I imagine…" he mused, then blinked, and continued. "So, imagine Voldemort is in power-"

Tempest grimaced. "I'd rather not thanks."

Sirius gave a rather dog-like bark of laughter. "You are so much like James, you know that?" He said, staring rather wistfully at Tempest. "But there's also a bit of you that is purely you…" He seemed to break out of his trance. "In any case, it's around fourteen-fifteen years ago, Voldemort is in power, you don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing … the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere … panic … confusion … that's how it used to be…"

Tempest shivered subconsciously. She could imagine quite clearly what Sirius was talking about.

"Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning - I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers – powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was handed straight to the Dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. Some might say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side."

Tempest almost automatically compared the tired Barty Crouch that she had seen on occasion to the ruthless harsh man that Sirius was describing, and she wondered what had changed him in such a way.

"He had his supporters, mind you – plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamouring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened …" Sirius smiled grimly. "Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power."

"Crouch had a son?" Tempest gasped.

Sirius laughed again, "Only you, Tempest- I tell you his son got caught, and instead of being horrified about that- you are astonished that he _had _a son- but yes, he had a son. It was an awful shock for him," Sirius continued, now devouring an entire ham sandwich whole. "Spent all his time out there catching Death Eaters- should have spent more time with his family… gotten to know his own son… The boy was around three years beneath me I think at Hogwarts, met him once or twice…"

He occupied himself with crunching into an apple.

"_Was_ he a Death Eater?" Tempest asked.

"No idea," Sirius replied, finishing the apple in record time, and throwing the core to Buckbeak, who didn't seem to appreciate it much. "I was already in Azkaban when they brought him in, this is mostly just stuff I've found out since I got out… I'm not sure about the boy, but he was definitely caught in the company of people who I'd bet everything I have a claim to, were Death Eaters… but then again, he might have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time- like that house-elf you talked about."

Tempest swallowed, she was pretty certain she already knew the answer to her question, but she asked anyway. "Did Crouch at least try to save his son? I mean… it _was_ his son."

Sirius was shaking his head even before Tempest finished. "I'd have thought you'd gotten the gist of the man from what I told you Tempest- him try to let his son off the charges? His reputation was his life- and anything that threatened to tarnish it had to go- he dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic, you saw him dismiss a utterly and completely devoted house-elf because she was associated with the Dark Mark… doesn't that give you enough basis of his character? No. Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trail, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy… and then he sent him straight to Azkaban."

"If he- the son- if he had been innocent though-" said Tempest hesitantly, "Would Crouch have-"

"Let the boy off? Highly unlikely. After all, he was still found talking with known Death Eaters, and a man like Crouch… even if the boy went free, Crouch would probably have disowned him in any case."

"So in other words, he just threw his own son to the Dementors?" asked Tempest flatly.

Sirius didn't look remotely amused now, and his lips were pressed in a flat line. "That's right. I saw them bring him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though … they all went quiet in the end … except when they shrieked in their sleep …"

Tempest shivered again, and Sirius threw a thin arm around Tempest's shoulders. Tempest could almost see it all playing out. She had had her fair share of Dementors last year… the horrible chilling cold that cut straight through her, the feeling of despair- as though she would never be happy again…

There was that deadened look in Sirius's eyes again, like shutters had closed behind them, blocking out all the light, and Tempest was almost certain that hers were the same.

"So is he still in Azkaban?" Tempest asked.

"No," said Sirius dully. "No, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in."

"He died?"

"He wasn't the only one," said Sirius bitterly. "Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited.

"That's sick," Tempest said, disgusted.

"What more can you expect from them?" Sirius asked rhetorically. "Sure they may be great for guarding the actual Death Eaters, but they're dark creatures themselves, and the way the Ministry uses them…"

The cool cave seemed to have dropped several degrees as Sirius continued his narration on Crouch's son.

"Now that I think about it, that boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his sons body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it. So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made," he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he finished off the last of the food from the huge package. "One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic … next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonoured, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"It's all just speculation though," Tempest said eventually. "I don't actually _remember_ seeing him on the map, it was just a feeling… but then Hermione had it too-" Tempest was now holding an argument with herself. "I mean, it might not have really been him- Mr Crouch at the school. It wouldn't really add up- and in Snape's office of all places!"

Sirius was nodding slowly, eyes fixed on a spot far in the distance that only he could see. "And when you told Moody that… how did he react?"

"He…" Tempest frowned, trying to remember. "He just said that he was nothing compared to Crouch when it came to catching dark wizards."

"Yeah, that's true," said Sirius, "He's become obsessed with it- or so I've heard. And if Moody said those words… then well, I wouldn't want to be a Dark wizard in his sights. Moody was my tutor when I was training with your father to become an Auror you know- absolutely mad that one, but great at his job…"

"Yes, but then why would Crouch be in Snape's office- and that's just saying if he was!"

"I wouldn't know," Sirius said seriously, running a hand down his tired face. "It doesn't add up. Maybe Crouch thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one last Death Eater… but then again, why is he sneaking out in the middle of the night? I mean, he's a judge in the tournament- and that would be the perfect cover to be at the school to keep an eye on Snape… lot less trouble too."

There was another long silence as the two thought.

"But… If Snape _is_ a death eater, Sirius… he's saved my life before you know… I mean, I admit it- and he could have killed me in that corridor too- I was unconscious after all…"

Sirius's expression was a mixture of worry and intense concentration. "Perhaps… no. Dumbledore trusts him after all…"

To Tempest, it seemed as though he was merely trying to convince himself.

"Are you sure about that?" Tempest asked sceptically.

Sirius laughed sheepishly, brushing his own tangled hair out of his eyes. "Well the evidence points both ways. I mean, okay, fine, he did do all of those things, and I _do_ thank him for saving your life-" he glanced sideways at Tempest almost as if making sure she was still there, then continued. "But then again, I knew him when we went to school… I never knew why Dumbledore hired him… he's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was almost famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was," Sirius added rather vindictively making Tempest smile in spite of herself. "Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters."

Tempest kept listening, finding it slightly odd to be hearing about Snape when he went to school. Also- if he was around the same age as Sirius, he was much younger than he appeared… she had always thought that Snape was in his late forties… but this made him around mid-thirties, the youngest professor at the school actually by Tempest's reckoning.

"He had almost no friends outside of that gang…" There was something about that sentence that nagged at Tempest, but as Sirius began counting off names with his fingers, it slipped out of her mind. "There was Rosier and Wilkes- they were killed by Aurors the year Voldemort fell. The Lestranges- they were a married couple- they're in Azkaban. Avery- from what I've heard, he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he'd been acting under the Imperius Curse- he's still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater- not that that means much- he's a smooth talker when he wants to be, and other Death Eaters with less skill haven't been captured."

"Well, I know Snape knows Karkaroff… Hermione heard Karkaroff and Snape talking at the Yule Ball, and then yesterday, after Potions, Karkaroff cornered Snape to show him something on his arm… I didn't see what but-"

"Something on his arm?" Sirius said, looking bewildered. "I have honestly no idea what that's about… and it's not like he's a marauder… far from it- and if Karkaroff is genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers…"

Sirius glared at the opposite cave wall, grimacing in frustration.

"Hang on a sec," Tempest said suddenly, "What did you mean about them not being Marauder's? What has that got anything to do with it?"

Sirius frowned for a moment, and then his expression lightened, the atmosphere in the cave lifting. "Oh right, you don't' know…"

He pulled his tattered sleeves up, exposing shimmering runes written on Sirius's skin around his wrist.

"What's that?" Tempest asked, trying to read it.

"All of us Marauders had it," Sirius said, a small smile on his face even though his eyes were sad. "Prongs, Padfoot, Moony… and Wormtail." He said, nodding towards his wrist, and Tempest could see in minute writing the letters forming the names, repeated over and over, shimmering in golden silvery ink against Sirius's filthy skin. "So you can maybe call it girlish- but honestly, everyone was too afraid of us at school to say anything to our faces…"

Tempest laughed, imagining some foolish second year commenting on the flowery script.

"None of us had much of a family really… Only Prongs… I was the black sheep of the Black family, or the white sheep… whichever way you want to take it, Moony… well he didn't have much of a good time at home either, his parents well, they weren't particularly receptive of his furry little problem… and Wormtail… his dad had died a long time ago, and his mum was sick a lot… We were family, and every full moon we were a pack." He took a deep breath, looking at Tempest. "And then we graduated, your mum fell in love with James.. they got married- and then you came along, and we were a family, a family that most of us had never had… and then Pettigrew betrayed Lily and James… He ran away like a coward, me in Azkaban, James and Lily dead, Remus being hounded by the Ministry of Magic for being a werewolf- and you with those Muggles!"

Sirius shook his head violently. "You used to call me Siri, you know- Unca Siri, or just Pafoo… James thought it was hilarious. Then it was Remy for Remus, and Wormy for Wormtail…"

Tempest smiled slightly, wishing she could remember. "What'd I call my dad and mum?"

"Jamie and Willy," grinned Sirius. "They both got a kick out of that."

Tempest blushed, mortified. "I didn't!"

"You did!" Sirius confirmed, "That year with you, along with our years at Hogwarts were the best years of my life, and theirs I'd wager."

Tempest sighed. "I've never had a family I can remember."

"Hey!" Sirius complained. "What about me? What about Moony? We're family Tempest, _family_, in everything that matters- me, you, Moony and Prongs…"

He shoved his wrist under Tempest's chin, and the tiny letters suddenly became legible.

_Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, Temper, Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, Tempest, Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, Temper, Prongs Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, Temper, Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, Temper, Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, Temper, Prongs, Padfoot…_

Tempest blinked suddenly dizzy. "Who's 'Temper'?"

Sirius swatted at Tempest's head. "You, idiot! You're Temper! Lily and James were playing around with baby names, and well, your mum came up with some weird name, she wanted to call you 'Tempestas' for some reason of her own, and James said that he was perfectly happy with a nice simple name like… uh… I think it was 'Harri' or maybe 'Rachel'… and then you were born, and they still hadn't decided, only they both took a look at you and decided that you definitely a 'Tempest'… But of course, your dad, he wouldn't admit that your mum was right any day of the year- well there was this once in sixth year, but that's a tale for another time- so he started calling you Temper just to annoy Lily, and then it sort of stuck, and that's what we called you- you did have an infamous temper, really… You had the biggest set of lungs that I'd ever heard on a baby, a girl too," Sirius teased light-heartedly.

Tempest grinned. It was strangely comforting to hear about her parents in that way, like actual people. Everyone else told her about them as merely a great wizard and witch who fought for the light side in the last Wizarding war, more like empty names with great deeds but no person behind it all.

"It is possible to remove a name from the Marauders," Sirius said rather musingly, "and I did consider for the longest time burning Peter's scummy name off…"

Tempest glanced at Sirius's sideways profile, which was dark and brooding. "But you didn't." Tempest said quietly. "The Wormtail you knew was your best friend, your brother, and you want to remember him that way."

Sirius sighed and looked over at Tempest wearily, leaning against the cave wall. "You know Tempest, you're so different sometimes, so different from how I remember you… I still keep on looking at you and expecting to see that little girl that I gave doggy rides around the house."

Tempest's mouth quirked. "Yes, well, it has been thirteen years."

Sirius gave a dry laugh.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, and then Tempest spoke again. "So, back to Snape."

The mood broke, and Sirius sat up straighter. "Right, back to the slimy git… Where were we anyway?"

"Karkaroff going to Snape for help."

"Right. So- that aside, with Moody's interest with Snape, I guess it isn't unfounded, and he's probably searched everyone's office at Hogwarts, he's an Auror to the core Moody is. I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though … he's a different matter … is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not … what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?"

"Okay…" Tempest said slowly. "You do know that the whole speculation about Crouch being in Snape's office is just based off what I _think _I remember, right?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, Tempest, what happened to you sounds like a memory charm, probably quite a powerful one, and I would try to break it, but if I try to it might tear your mind in half and kill you-"

Sirius's voice was dead serious without a hint of a joke. "-but if you can remember that much, I'm guessing that it actually did happen. You and Hermione _did_ see Crouch's name on the map and so someone stole the map and wiped your memories."

Tempest started, staring at Sirius with horror. She had some experience with memory charms from Lockhart in second year, but she had never had one placed on her. It seemed horrifying that someone could cut part of her memories off from her and she wouldn't even know. "So… so it did happen?"

"Probably," Sirius said, fists clenching at his sides. "-and when I find out who- even if it is Crouch who hexed you, I will make them pay."

Tempest laughed nervously. "I can get Ron to write to his brother Percy, Percy is Crouch's personal assistant, he might know something…"

"Sounds good," Sirius said, nodding. "And maybe see whether you can find some leads on Bertha Jorkins. It's not good- her missing."

"Ludo Bagman said he hadn't when I asked." Replied Tempest.

"Well yes, that's what he'd say- it's even in the paper," Sirius said, gesturing at the papers on the floor. "Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all – quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic … maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long …"

He sighed heavily, and then rubbed at his eyes. "Where are Ron and Hermione by the way?" Sirius asked suddenly, "I thought that you would bring them- from what I saw, you three were pretty inseparable."

Tempest shrugged slightly. "I guess… I… Last term was stressful, and so were the holidays… Ron was being a git… and we did make up, but recently… Do you know a boy called Draco Malfoy?"

"Malfoy?" Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Lucius Malfoy's son?"

Tempest nodded.

"Well, Malfoy was a fifth year when I began Hogwarts, he married my cousin, Narcssia. I heard they had a son in Slytherin… your age?"

Tempest grimaced. "Well… we had a disagreement about him… I might have been… dating him."

Sirius stared for a split second, then burst out laughing, clapping Tempest on the back, a shadow of the former handsome man he had been, -still could be,- flashing across his face. "Tempest's growing up and dating guys! If James were here… oh, he'd be interrogating giving the boyfriend a right dressing down, and then sobbing that his little girl's all grown up…"

Tempest swatted at Sirius's arm. "Sirius! Honestly! Besides… we're not together anymore."

Sirius stopped. "Wha- wait, hang on- what?"

Tempest shook her head, rubbing at the back of her neck. "Meh, well I've never had a relationship before- well there was this one with a boy named Ben (he was a muggle) but as a first relationship, I don't think they're really meant to last… I think of it as a learning experience…"

"Really?"

Tempest met his disbelieving stare. "Yes really."

Sirius stared at her for a moment more before sighing. "If you say so." There was a pause. "Not all Slytherins are Dark, you know Tempest." Sirius said eventually. "My cousin, Andromeda, she was in Slytherin too, then she ran off with a muggle-born, Ted Tonks I think it was… I respected her… only one in my family I had to look up to, ironically enough… and then Narcssia, she was my age, she was nice enough too, she did believe in Pure-blood superiority, but she didn't mind muggle-borns either… and then the war came- and well, people changed I guess you could say."

"Yeah." Tempest said flatly.

Sirius suddenly grinned. "You know though, I trust you can make your decisions well enough Tempest, you might make some mistakes, but you always get up… and I'm not going to lecture you about them- only I want you to promise me something."

Tempest looked over at him. "Promise you what?"

"That if you ever get married Tempest, I want to do me two favours."

Tempest's brow furrowed. "Oh…kay?"

"First thing, I want to be the one to walk you down the aisle."

"That's fine, no other person I'd want-"

"Second thing- if you ever do get married, pick a guy whose ass the both of us can kick."

Tempest laughed, she threw back her head and laughed, feeling the last of her stress leave her. "Sure Sirius, why not?"

Finally, after a long silence, Sirius got to his feet and stretched. "You know, Tempest, I don't know exactly what happened between you and your friends- but you need them Tempest, I would know. Whatever they mean- they mean you well, Tempest… keep them close."

Tempest didn't argue, merely nodded and stood too.

"About that night in the corridor, by the way Tempest." Sirius said suddenly, turning to Tempest. "We can't let that happen again, it's too dangerous, and so, I'm going with you back to Hogwarts, Buckbeak will be fine here on his own."

Tempest felt an odd feeling of falling. "_What_?" she said, her voice deathly quiet. "No. No! NO!"

Sirius couldn't go back to Hogwarts… if he was caught…

"You're not coming back, no! Sirius, if you get caught-"

"I won't get caught, Tempest," Sirius reassured. "I'll stay as Padfoot- you could hide me in your dorm…"

"It's too dangerous!" Tempest exclaimed, "Someone could recognize you- and… and…"

"I'm going back with you Tempest, whether you like it or not, alright? You've still got the third task left, there's the threat of two possible Death Eaters in the castle- and I am damn well going to do my job as your god-father, alright?"

Tempest stared at him stunned.

"And that reminds me," Sirius continued, ignoring Tempest. "I've been meaning to ask you- I heard from Remus that the reason you were sent to the Dursley's in the first place was because they were your blood relatives, correct?"

Tempest grimaced in response.

"-and now you're living with Minnie, is that correct?"

Tempest nodded mutely.

"How did Dumbledore manage that?"

Tempest managed to recover her voice to reply. "Minnie- she's a pureblood… and most purebloods are all linked together through family trees… and my dad was a pureblood too right? And Minnie's mother's sister's son's daughter was I think my dad's great aunt… So Dumbledore just transferred the wards…"

Sirius nodded like it had been confirmed. "So Tempest, at the end of this year, how would you like to come live with me in my house?"

Tempest gapped at him. "Live… _with _you? Really? You mean it?"

Sirius beamed at Tempest's enthusiasm. "Yes, I've just regained access to my parents old house- and the Black family is related to the Potters, something about your dad's mum being my aunt… I won't get into that, but if you really want to then, there's just one more thing I have to do."

Tempest blinked at him, "What?"

Sirius's face became serious again. "Well, there's a thing though. I'm technically disowned."

Tempest slumped. In magical terms that meant that he was officially cut out of the family tree, meaning that even though he was born into the Black family tree, and very distantly related to Tempest, therefore meaning she could live with him, him being disowned negated all of that, and there was no way Dumbledore would be able to transfer the blood wards over to him.

Seeing Tempest's expression, Sirius hastened to explain. "Don't worry, there's a spell, and it wouldn't work unless Lily was muggle-born, which she is, but there's a spell, I found it back when I still went to Hogwarts, and it's a complicated twisty spell, and I don't understand how it works, but it can make someone, someone else's blood relative- so if I cast this spell, it'll make me your mum's brother, in technical terms, also making her a half-blood, and me your blood uncle."

Tempest was stunned at the speed of all the information. So she could live with Sirius, but she couldn't because he was disowned, but then she could if Sirius cast a spell making him Tempest's uncle.

"Then what are you waiting for Sirius?" Tempest asked, "Cast it already!"

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest ran into Ron, Hermione and the twins, as she exited the Room of Requirement, after having smuggled Sirius inside under the invisibility cloak.

"Hi," Hermione said awkwardly.

"Hi." Tempest replied, then made to walk past them, only to have Hermione grab her arm and pull her back.

"Look, Tempest," Ron began, to Tempest's surprise, "I read the article in the Witch Weekly,"

Tempest shrugged off Hermione's hand, turning to Ron. "That's very nice, and I'm very happy for you, your point is?"

"You can't keep avoiding us Tempest," Fred butted in. "Who're we going to plan out our next prank with?"

"Look," Tempest said, "I'm doing fine, and I don't need your comments- or stares, or any of it- I'm _fine_, and Fred- you can probably go plan them out with Lee Jordan, he's great with that stuff…"

"But not the same as you," George retorted, "Look, Tempest, we're your friends, we are here for you-"

"Yeah, thanks! Now if I could just get by-"

"Tempest!" Hermione yelled, "Get it into your head that we care about you, and want to be here for you, and that you're being _stupid._ If you don't want to talk about Dr- Malfoy, then that's fine, we won't bring him up-"

"We'll even go out and beat him up for you if you like Hedgy!" George broke in. "If it'll make you feel better- just say the words!"

In spite of herself, Tempest had to laugh, remembering Sirius's words. _Keep your friends close._

"No thanks George. It is appreciated though."

"We were all fooled by that git, Tempest," Ron said, "I mean, I completely believed him- and I hated him too!"

George clapped Tempest on the shoulder as the five began walking down the hallway. "Don't worry Hedgy. We'll always be there. Maybe a bit late, but we'll get there soon enough."

Tempest shook her head, smiling slightly. "That's reassuring."

"Well it would help if you wouldn't run from us!" Hermione complained, then she stopped as she noticed the necklace that Tempest was still wearing.

"Tempest… if you don't mind me asking- why are you still wearing that necklace?"

Tempest glanced down at the snake that hung around her neck. She had all but forgotten about it.

"It's a reminder." Tempest said eventually. "It's a reminder that I was wrong."


	10. Chapter 10

C11: Mr Crouch.

Tempest and George sat in the Owlery, the owls hooting softly in stark contrast to just a few moments ago when in the Great Hall, the twins and Tempest had transfigured the Slytherins robes into a brilliant pink.

It had been an excellent prank, the Slytherins going around furious for the rest of the day, their faces just as pink as their robes in embarrassment and humiliation.

Their spell was excellent, no amount of wand waving from any of the teachers would turn the robes back to their original green and silver. (Tempest knew for a fact that the majority of the teacher's attempts were half-hearted, and she had caught a few sending subtle smiles at her as they passed by in the corridors). Snape had been furious, and Tempest knew he suspected her, but there was no proof, and she was too busy laughing with the rest of Gryffindor to care.

Fred and long since gone down to the kitchen to fetch more Butterbeers (they only had two bottles left), to celebrate the success of their first major prank together as the 'Terrible Tormentors' which Fred thought was an interesting twist to the initials- T & T, (the Twins and Tempest.). Tempest had rolled her eyes at that one, but decided to go along with it.

"Toast?" George asked, proffering his half-empty bottle of Butterbeer.

Tempest raised an eyebrow, still sipping at her own. "For what?"

George shrugged carelessly. "I was getting to that…"

"When?" Tempest asked sceptically.

"Uhmn…" George muttered, his brow creasing. There was a long pause then; "Oh fine, you got me- what do you want to toast to?"

"How should I know?" Tempest said indignantly, "You're the one who wanted to toast!"

"Oh fine!" Huffed George, "let's toast to the T & T 's first very successful prank, and for many more to come!"

Tempest raised her eyebrows. "George, that's a horrible toast, first- why did you ever agree to Fred's naming us, and second- that was _way_ too long! You need something short and snappy!"

"Short and snappy?" George said indignantly, "I _ooze_ shortness and snappiness! I am in fact the shortest and snappiest person you are ever likely to meet- in fact, I might even say that I am the ruler of all future short and snappy quo-"

"Okay, okay!" Tempest broke in, laughing. "I get it, you're short and snappy- point taken."

"Yes!" George said heatedly while Tempest merely smiled amusedly.

Fred and George were great to spend time with. Not only did they have their wicked sense of fun binding them together, but also they were incredibly easy to be around. They didn't stare at Tempest worriedly, like she was about to begin crying any second (Hermione), or act wary around her as though she was about to burst into flame (Ron), or be overly sympathetic and soppy (the majority of the female population of the school), or give her covert sympathetic glances (the teachers- Minnie included). They were just their usual boyish, full of laugher, selves.

"So what _are_ we toasting to then?" George whinged.

"Oh for goodness sakes!" Tempest complained, throwing her hands up in the air, then grabbing her bottle of Butterbeer from where it sat at her side. "Just toast to fun- and enjoying life."

"-and you say that my toasts are bad?" George said sceptically.

"Just get it over and done with," Tempest huffed.

"Oh alright," George sighed, then clinked his bottle to Tempest's. "To living life, and having fun."

There was a silence as the two sipped at their Butterbeer, and then George had to break it. "Hedgy," he said, "What is so wrong with T & T?"

"**_George!_**"

~Y.-.Y~

Life with Sirius the dog hidden in the castle was eventful to say the least, and downright bedlam to just brush the surface of it.

Sirius had 'sworn' Tempest in as one of the Marauders, and so Hogwarts with two Marauders and the twins (with the intellectual help of Hermione) became sheer chaos.

Tempest had been against anyone beating up any of the Slytherins, (she wouldn't admit that she would have liked it,) but she wasn't against pranking them in any way possible.

She knew that she should have be concentrating on more serious concerns, but quite honestly, she wasn't in the mood. Lessons were becoming harder, the Slytherins were unbearable (especially Parkinson, who was once again glued to Malfoy's side), and every time Tempest saw Malfoy passing by in corridors between lessons, she had to restrain herself from… from… She didn't know.

And on top of all of that, the letters in response to the Witch Weekly began to arrive.

Some were disgusting letters that told her to choose better than Slytherins, others gushed over her foolishness as a naive little girl, and more still were complains that went along the lines of:

"_I used to respect you! The girl-who-lived, and here I am hearing about your over-active social life- you should be ashamed of yourself. Using your high status to play young men's hearts… I expected so much more from you! Is this your twisted way of earning more fame?_"

Tempest had burned all of the letters, scaring the owls delivering them to screech in terror when Tempest cast an _Incendio_ on them, and it had taken almost an hour of her pacing to release her pent up rage, and even then, she was still angry.

Ron and Hermione were trying fruitlessly to reason with Tempest- who was planning on stalking down to Hogsmeade and torturing Skeeter just to make herself feel better.

"That… oh, there isn't a word horrible enough!" Tempest burst out. "Oh sure, I'm grateful for the fact that Malfoy's true colours have been revealed- but she wrote it in the paper for the whole _Wizarding _world to see… I don't want to live a lie, but she made me out to be a… a… _slut_ who goes around… _seducing _people just because I prefer to spend time with boys!" Tempest burst out on the way to Care of Magical Creatures that morning. "I mean, after all, just because she has nothing better to do than stick her nose into everyone else's business and then spread lies and false rumours about everyone and anyone she can find with the tiniest secret… Oh, I swear, if Sirius was really a murderer, I'd set him onto her! In fact I'm considering it right now!"

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances behind Tempest. It was a sign of how furious she was that she was bringing Sirius into the equation. Usually Tempest never joked about him being a murderer- they all knew he wasn't.

The two of them and the twins along with Tempest had been to visit Sirius in the Room of Requirement the other day, and the twins had been bugging Sirius about all his great Marauder pranks, and Tempest, just wanting some light-hearted humour had listened in on their conversation, mentally taking a note to try out some of them. Foremost among them was to change jinx someone to say everything in a high soprano for the continuous twenty four hours. For that idea, she had given George a kiss on the cheek, and a hug that Sirius claimed crushed half his ribs.

Hermione had been fascinated by the fact that Sirius was now Tempest's blood uncle- therefore making Tempest an actual second-born pure-blood. It was, as she said, a very complex spell, and then she had burst into a speech about the finer details of the magic, and Tempest tuned her out after that.

Sirius had explained about what a second-born pure-blood actually was. A first-born pure-blood was the child of two ancient pure-blooded families, a second-born was the child of a half-blood and a pure-blood with pure bloodlines, and third-born was the child of two half-bloods.

Needless to say, Tempest had left the room of Requirement rather dazed afterward. She didn't feel very different having made the transfer from half-blood to whatsit-called pure-blood… it was all the same to her.

Now, as they walked down towards Hagrid's hut, Tempest was in need of a laugh more than anything else- just to let off some steam, and she was immensely grateful that after lunch later on that day, her, along with Fred and George would be trying out the soprano jinx on the Slytherins.

They reached Hagrid's cabin, Tempest studiously ignoring the catcalls and jeers from the Slytherins, and her eyes fell on a stack of open crates by Hagrid's feet. She didn't want to let Hagrid down, but if those were more Skrewts…

But as she drew closer to the crates and she could see inside, she realized that the creatures were most definitely not Skrewts.

There were no suckers or stings for one thing, and the fluffy black creatures with long snouts inside the boxes were actually cute- something not even a drunk Hagrid could say about the Skrewts- and their front paws were rather flat, like spades, not like the horrible beetle-like legs of the Skrewts, and instead of making disturbing scuttling noises and attacking, they fluffy creatures blinked upwards at the class, looking politely puzzled at the attention.

"These're nifflers," said Hagrid, when the class had gathered around. "Yeh find 'em down mines mostly. They like sparkly stuff … There yeh go, look."

One of the nifflers had suddenly leapt up and attempted to bite Pansy Parkinson's watch off her wrist. She shrieked and jumped backward.

Tempest bit back a grin, although Ron was less subtle at hiding his snigger.

"Useful little treasure detectors," said Hagrid happily. "Thought we'd have some fun with 'em today. See over there?" He pointed at a large patch of freshly turned earth. "I've buried some gold coins. I've got a prize fer whoever picks the niffler that digs up most. Jus' take off all yer valuables, an' choose a niffler, an get ready ter set 'em loose."

Tempest slid off Draco's necklace and slipped it into her pocket. Perhaps she had been lying when she had told Hermione why she still wore it.

Yes, it was a reminder, only not just of how she was wrong… oh yes, she had been wrong- hilariously so, but a reminder of just how much she wished she had been right.

Tempest ran a mental check over the rest of her body to make sure that she didn't have any more shiny items on her, then glanced down at her right wrist. Sirius had charmed the Marauder's names onto Tempest's arm too, and it shimmered there in silver and gold lettering. Tempest didn't know what kind of magic it was, only that it seemed to radiate warmth all around her, almost like a patronus.

She just hoped the niffler wouldn't try to gnaw the skin off her arm.

Tempest picked a particularly eager niffler which was trying to climb the sides of the crate, scooping it up. It was heavier than she thought it would be, but just as soft and cuddly as Nyx- only bigger.

Hermione had selected one that was now pawing at her hair, and Ron a rather small one who was almost leaping out of his arms and straining towards the patch of dirt already.

It was the best fun they had ever had in Care of Magical Creatures, Tempest thought. No contest.

The nifflers dived in and out of the patch of earth as though it were water, each scurrying back to the student who had released it and spitting gold into their hands. Ron's was particularly efficient, it had soon filled his lap with coins.

Tempest's was doing well, but she had a feeling she was collecting more dirt on her robes than coins, but she didn't mind. This was great… if only more lessons would be like it…

Hermione's niffler was second best after Ron's only its aim wasn't as good, while Ron's niffler deposited the coins straight into his lap, Hermione's spat coins all over her, hitting her arms and face, making Tempest howl with laughter. If Fred and George had been there…

"Can you buy these as pets, Hagrid?" Ron asked excitedly as his niffler dived back into the soil, splattering his robes (and Tempest's) with dirt.

"Yer mum wouldn' be happy Ron," said Hagrid, grinning. "They wreck houses, nifflers. I reckon they've nearly got the lot, now," he added, pacing around the patch of earth while the nifflers continued to dive for coins. "I on'y buried a hundred coins…"

Tempest sat back up, piling her coins beside her on the ground as her niffler surfaced again, spitting a last coin into Tempest's palm affectionately, then plopping down next to the pile of coins.

"Well, let's check how yeh've done!" said Hagrid. "Count yer coins! An' there's no point tryin' ter steal any, Goyle," he added, his beetle-black eyes narrowed. "It's leprechaun gold. Vanishes after a few hours."

Goyle emptied his pockets, looking extremely sulky. It turned out that Ron's niffler had been most successful, so Hagrid gave him an enormous slab of Honeydukes chocolate for a prize.

The bell rang across the grounds for lunch; the rest of the class set off back to the castle, but Tempest, Ron, and Hermione stayed behind to help Hagrid put the nifflers back in their boxes. Tempest noticed Madame Maxime watching them out other carriage window and remembered that she still hadn't talked to her about Hagrid.

She didn't realize that Ron was just as quiet as her until the silence between them became awkward.

"What's wrong?" Tempest asked, seeing Ron staring down rather moodily.

"Why didn't you tell me about the gold?" Ron asked shortly.

"What gold?" asked Tempest, confused, Hermione beside her looked just as stumped.

"The gold I gave you at the Quidditch World Cup," said Ron. "The leprechaun gold I gave you for my Omnioculars. In the Top Box. Why didn't you tell me it disappeared?"

Tempest had to think for a while until she remembered what he was talking about. She didn't have the best memory most times, something which added to her clumsiness wasn't the best of qualities.

"Oh …" she said, finally remembering. "I don't … I never noticed it had gone. I was more worried about my wand… I mean, wouldn't you be?"

They climbed the steps into the entrance hall and went into the Great Hall for lunch. Fred and George weren't there yet, meaning that she couldn't pull the prank on the Slytherins without them, and she had to wait.

"Must be nice," Ron said abruptly, when they had sat down and started serving themselves roast beef and Yorkshire puddings. "To have so much money you don't notice if a pocketful of Galleons goes missing."

"Listen, Ron, I had other stuff on my mind that night!" said Tempest impatiently, yet at the same time trying to sound understanding. "We all did, remember?"

"I didn't know leprechaun gold vanishes," Ron muttered. "I thought I was paying you back. You shouldn't've given me that globe full of memories-"

"Ron, it doesn't matter to me! And besides- I didn't buy it, I made it…"

Ron speared a roast potato on the end of his fork, glaring at it. Then he said, "I hate being poor."

Tempest and Hermione looked at each other. There was so much Tempest wanted to say to make Ron feel better, only she was pretty sure that whatever she said would just put him in a fouler mood.

"It's rubbish," said Ron, still glaring down at his potato. "I don't blame Fred and George for trying to make some extra money. Wish I could. Wish I had a niffler."

Tempest tried to make her voice light as she replied. "Well, Fred and George… they don't _try_ to make more money- they make jokes and pranks and sell them because that's what they love doing… they don't do it for the money, even if that's what they need to keep producing their jokes… and Ron- you have so much that I don't have… you have a whole family- and maybe even if you well… don't have some things that other people do- we don't mind, and in any case, you've got a home, you've got a mum that loves you, a dad who supports you… tonnes of siblings…"

Ron looked sheepish, but still rather sullen.

"I would give all of my money in my vault at Gringotts just to have a family like yours Ron, honestly! And you have no idea just how lucky- bloody hell! _Incendio!_"

Tempest broke off, whipping out her wand and blasting a letter which an owl was carrying towards her into ashes.

Now also in a foul mood, Tempest shoved her wand back up her sleeve and sat back down. "Honestly, if I ever get my hands on Skeeter in a dark alleyway…"

Hermione laid a placating hand on Tempest's shoulder. "Tempest, calm-"

"Down?" Tempest said indignantly. "No! I want to know how she got an interview with Malfoy and Pansy –bloody-Parkinson when she's banned from the grounds! I want to know how she's contacting students around the school and getting her dammed 'information' about me… She could have maybe phones inside the castle- although I don't see Parkinson stooping to using muggle devices…"

Ron was looking confused, but Hermione was shaking her head. "Not possible Tempest. You've lived at Professor McGonagall's for three years- when have you ever seen her use a phone? Muggle substitutes for magic just don't work around places with high magical activity… and around Hogwarts, there's so much magic in the air, all the devices would go haywire…"

Tempest scowled. "I actually really hope it's something illegal… Oh, I bet she wouldn't like that getting out…"

"Tempest, I think you're getting a tad obsessed," Ron started.

"Yeah, well- hey! Fred, George!" Tempest spotted the red-headed twins approaching her, and waved furiously. When they were close enough so that she didn't have to yell to talk to them, she shot a cautious glance over at the Slytherin table. "Ready?"

George grinned mischievously. "When are we not?"

~Y.-.Y~

The prank was a roaring success, and Tempest and the twins weren't even in trouble. Oh of course they were suspects, but there was no proof, and Tempest basked in the warm glow of the excellent execution. She knew it was childish, but she couldn't help but feel a vindictive sense of pride every single time Parkinson opened her mouth and high-pitched opera tone singing erupted from her throat, making everyone around her clamp their hands around her ears.

Sirius applauded their prank vehemently when they came to bring him food in the Room of Requirement, and then enquired after the letter that Tempest has asked Ron to send to Percy a while back after Sirius had been smuggled into the castle.

They had finally received a reply from Percy, but it was short and irritated, much like how Tempest felt most of the time those days.

Apart from the pranks that she played with Fred and George, and the time she spent relaxing by the black lake in the afternoons, she couldn't shy away from the fact that as much as she hated to admit it, she missed Draco.

Draco, not Malfoy, the self-absorbed prat whose head Tempest wanted to shove through a wall, but Draco, who laughed along with Tempest at the twin's antics, who held lively debates with Hermione, exchanged friendly banter between Blaise and Ron, and who made Tempest feel – quite simply- content.

It didn't matter what the situation, whether it was just the fact that Tempest had lost a book for Transfigurations, or that they were in Snape's dark and dank dungeon with Snape sneering over Tempest's shoulder, or when she had been worried for the second task and he had been there… it just made her feel… better.

There was actually no other way to put it. He had made Tempest better, and the plain truth of the matter was that no matter how much she wanted him back, she wasn't getting him back, because he had never existed in the first place- only as a fifty galleon mask.

It didn't help either that her homework was piling up, and any free time (that she didn't spend pranking or visiting Sirius,) she spent trying to think up ways Skeeter could be sneaking into the castle was leading her into continuous dead ends.

And then they had a reply from Percy.

It with it arrived six chocolate eggs, four for the Weasleys, and one for Tempest and Hermione each.

All of the eggs were the same size- around as big as Dragon eggs, but while each egg for all of the Weasleys and Hermione was accompanied by a long loving letter from Mrs Weasley, all Tempest received was the egg and a small card with her name written on the front, and a mere: _Happy Easter _ written inside.

Tempest ate her egg rather moodily, not hurt by the lack of message so much, but the fact that Mrs Weasley must have read the article in the Witch Weekly and believed it- even though she _knew_ Tempest.

Percy's letter did very little to lift Tempest's mood.

_As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven't actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior's handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumours._

_Please don't bother me again unless it's something important. Happy Easter._

Tempest thought the overall letter rather negated the last two words.

At the beginning of the summer term, Tempest would usually have been training hard for the last Quidditch match of the season, but this year it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament, and she knew she needed to start preparing- only she didn't know what she had to do for it yet.

Finally however, in the last week of May, Minnie held Tempest back in Transfiguration, which made Tempest worry slightly about whether Minnie was going to tell her that she couldn't keep Hedgy Jr anymore- but she needn't have worried, as Minnie merely told her to go to the Quiddtich field at nine o'clock that evening to talk to Ludo Bagman about the third task.

Tempest usually had a record for being late for things, so at half-past-eight that night, Tempest left the twins plotting for a mass scale prank on the entire school, and went downstairs to the entrance hall, where she ran into Cedric.

"Hey," she said, by way of greeting, and he grinned in response.

"Thanks, by the way," Tempest said suddenly, realizing that she hadn't actually thanked him yet for the egg clue. She didn't like owing people things- hated it actually- and even though he had technically owed her first, it didn't seem right for her not to say 'thank you'.

"No problem," Cedric replied. "Any idea what the third task might be though?"

Tempest shrugged. "I've heard some talk… Fleur thinks it's to do with something underground… after all, the first task was above ground, the second underwater… it could be possible- and Viktor well he's coming first, he thinks that perhaps seeing as the first was to test our daring, the second to test our intelligence, the third might to be test our skill…"

Cedric looked mildly impressed. "Don't you think it's odd Tempest, that while during the previous tournaments, all the champions tried to kill each other, and yet this year, the oddest possibly, out of all of them, you manage to befriend all of them?"

Tempest shrugged slightly. She hadn't really ever thought of it that way.

They walked down the dark lawn to the Quidditch stadium, turned through a gap in the stands, and walked out onto the huge long flat field.

Or what used to be the huge long flat field.

"What've they done to it?" Tempest and Cedric said indignantly at the same time, both halting and staring before them.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"Hedges?" Tempest said incredulously as she stepped forward to examine the nearest low wall. "They're hedges!"

"Hello, hello!" Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Viktor and Fleur. Tempest and Cedric made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at Tempest as she came nearer, and Tempest smiled back walking over.

"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily. "Growing nicely, aren't they? Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less than - happy expressions on Tempest's and Cedric's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task is over! Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?"

No one spoke for a moment. Tempest was pretty sure she knew, but then again, it might not be right…

"Maze," grunted Viktor.

"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We semply 'ave to get through the maze?" said Fleur.

"There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures …

Tempest didn't like the sound of that, nor the way that Bagman seemed so enthusiastic.

"-then there will be spells that must be broken … all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champions who are leading on points will get a head start into the maze." Bagman said. "First Mr Krum, then Miss Potter and Mr Diggory, then Miss Delacour. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?"

Tempest found the fact that it was Hagrid who was going to provide the creatures not at all appealing, nor the idea of the dangerous twenty foot tall maze particularly fun at all, but she tried not to let her emotions show on her face as she nodded politely.

"Very well … if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly …"

Bagman hurried alongside Tempest as they began to wend their way out of the growing maze. Tempest felt rather awkward, as she had longer legs, and she also had the feeling that Bagman was going to start offering to help her again, but just then, Viktor tapped Tempest on the shoulder.

"Could I haff a vord?"

"Sure," Tempest agreed, slightly surprised, wondering if it was about Hermione.

"Valk vith me." Viktor said, gesturing away from Bagman.

Tempest was more than happy to comply. "Okay."

Bagman looked slightly perturbed. "Shall I wait for you, Tempest?"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Bagman," Tempest said, trying not to let her annoyance show, "I think I can find the castle on my own, thanks."

Tempest and Viktor left the stadium together, but Viktor did not set a course for the Durmstrang ship. Instead, he walked toward the forest.

"Why are we going this way?" Tempest asked as they passed Hagrid's cabin and the Beauxbatons carriage.

"Privacy." Viktor grunted, and Tempest decided that while he was handsome in a brooding sort of way, he didn't look half as nice as he did when he was smiling at Hermione.

"So…" Tempest prodded. It wasn't that she was in a particular hurry to return to the castle, only that it was rather cold.

"I vant to know, vot there is between your friend Veasley and Hermy-own-ninny."

Tempest gapped at him. Viktor had been sitting with them regularly, and studying with them most of the time too, perhaps he was bound to have noticed Ron's rather visible jealously- even if he himself and Hermione didn't seem to realize it.

"Nothing." Tempest said, a bit too quickly, but as Viktor glowered at her, Tempest remembered how much of a terrible liar she was.

"Or at least, they don't have feelings for each other." Of all of the topics that Viktor might have wanted to talk about, this was one of the most awkward. Tempest generally tried to avoid situations like this- especially when it was her two best friends they were talking about. She omitted the word 'yet' which she was almost about to add onto the end of the sentence.

"She talks about him very often." Krum said, glaring off into the dark.

Tempest shifted slightly, uncomfortable. "Well, yeah, they're friends… I mean, she talks about me too, right? Not to boost my self-importance, but you know… we do live together and are in the same house you know…"

Viktor's stare didn't lessen at all. "So they haff never… they haff not…"

Tempest shook her head. She wasn't technically lying, but then again, she felt like she was cheating Viktor. He seemed to genuinely like Hermione- and vice versa, but then again, Tempest had thought the same about her and Draco hadn't she?

Viktor must have detected the unease in Tempest's face, as he fixed his eyes back on her face.

"Alright, fine!" Tempest burst out finally. "What I said is true- they've never been together- I don't think Ron even consciously realized she was a girl until now- but I dunno, he does fancy her, even if both of them don't really realize it yet."

Viktor's black eyes were fixed on Tempest's now. "And does Hermione like this Veasley back?"

And Tempest realized, rather distractedly that that was the first time Viktor had said Hermione's name correctly.

"In all honesty?" Tempest asked, glancing up into the star streaked sky. "No. He's not mature enough for her yet, and in some ways they could never be together- they'd kill each other in a day flat, but then again, in the same way- they could be just what the other needs." Tempest sighed again. "But then, he's also just so indifferent, and so _blind_, she'd be miserable if they were together now… Oh, I don't know!"

Tempest threw her hands up in the air, then took a deep breath to calm down. "Look. I know both of them are my best friends, and I should want for them to get together, but… look, you make her happy, and I've never seen her smile more than she does when she's with you, so… just… stick around I guess- I know it's not what you want to hear, or what _I_ would want to hear if the situations were reversed, but it's true. She's fifteen. Whatever choices she makes now she may well change her mind in the future."

Tempest stopped, having run out of breath, then looked up, expecting to see Viktor angry or something along those lines.

Instead, he seemed musing.

"You… you are a good friend to Hermione." Viktor said finally, looking almost surprised. "Most people vould haf told me vat they vould think I vanted to hear."

"Well, you'd better take care of her," Tempest laughed, even though her tone was serious, "because if you do what Malfoy did to me- I will ensure that you will never again fly on a broomstick because it happens to be rammed up your ass, understand?"

It was a mark of Viktor's excellent sense of humour that he laughed. "I vould expect no less from you Tempest."

"Yeah, well, that's one of the perks of happening to go out with one of my best friends-"

Something moved behind Viktor in the trees, and Tempest, who knew what kind of horrors lurked in the forest, grabbed Viktor's arm, yanking him around so that his back was no longer to the forest.

Tempest slipped her wand out of her sleeve, clutching at the smooth wood.

"Vot is it?" Viktor asked, pulling his own wand out from inside his robes.

"Not sure," Tempest muttered back, "Just maybe-"

Suddenly a man staggered out from behind a tall oak.

Tempest clutched her wand tighter, about to hex the man if he came any closer, but then she realized it was Mr. Crouch.

He looked terrible, as though he had been traveling for days, his robes were torn and dirty, the knees ripped and bloody, his face scratched. He was unshaven and almost grey with exhaustion. His usually neat hair and moustache were both messy and tangled, and in great need of a wash. But it wasn't his appearance that frightened Tempest the most, but the way he was behaving.

He was muttering and gesticulating, seemingly talking to someone who he alone could see.

Tempest was unnerved by the display- it was rather disturbing to see someone who she had labelled to be powerful and cruel reduced to a dirty ragged mess who was muttering to thin air.

"Isn't he a judge?" asked Viktor, frowning at Mr Crouch. "Isn't he with your Ministry?"

Tempest nodded slowly. "I don't know why he's out here though- the Third task isn't for a while yet, and he should have come up through the entrance hall…" She hesitated, then keeping her wand out cautiously, she stepped forwards, free hand outstretched, not really sure what she was aiming to do.

Mr Crouch didn't even look at her, still talking to a nearby tree.

"… and when you've done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve …"

Tempest hesitated again, she didn't know what would happen if she interrupted him… but she did have her wand out after all… "Mr Crouch?" Tempest asked loudly, "Mr Crouch?"

"… and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she's bringing, now Karkaroff's made it a round dozen … do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will …"

Mr. Crouch's eyes were bulging. He stood staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. Then he staggered sideways and fell to his knees.

Tempest automatically stepped forward to try to catch him, and was almost knocked over by his weight. He may have been thin and exhausted, but he was still just as heavy. To her relief though, Viktor stooped beside her, helping Crouch off her.

"Mr Crouch?" Tempest tried again, "Do you need some help- I could fetch Madam Pomfrey-"

"No!" Crouch gasped, his eyes suddenly clearing, yet becoming mad at the same time.

"Vot is wrong with him?" Viktor asked, looking wary, even though he was still holding Crouch's shoulders.

"I don't know!" Tempest exclaimed, "Mr Crouch, we can help you if you tell us what happened to you- just…"

"Dumbledore!" gasped Crouch suddenly, like a swimmer surfacing from the water. He grabbed a handful of Tempest's robes, yanking her closer, even though his eyes were unfocused and didn't seem to be looking at Tempest at all. "I need… see… Dumbledore…"

Tempest tried to pull backwards, to get her robes out of Crouch's grasp. "Yeah, okay! Mr Crouch- just let me go, and then get up, and we can go together to get Professor Dumbledore, I know where his office is-"

"I've done … stupid … thing …" Crouch breathed. He looked utterly mad. His eyes were rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle was sliding down his chin. Every word he spoke seemed to cost him a terrible effort. "Must … tell … Dumbledore …"

Tempest was now frightened, very frightened, she didn't like the way that Crouch seemed to be struggling to speak rationally, or the fact that he had a vice-like grip, and she couldn't get free. "Look, Mr Crouch, just- get up, and we'll take you to Professor Dumbledore- if you just let go of me-"

Crouch's eyes seemed to focus slightly. "Who… you?" he whispered.

"Tempest, Tempest Potter- remember? That's Viktor Krum- he's from Durmstrang and I'm from Hogwarts- we're two of the champions for the Triwizard Tournament…" Tempest glanced over at Viktor who looked extremely nervous.

"You… aren't his?" Crouch gasped, and even though Tempest hadn't the faintest idea what Crouch was talking about decided to reassure him anyway, seeing as the question seemed to be of particular importance to him.

"No, sir, I'm not." Tempest said, still struggling to get Crouch to release her.

"Dumbledore's?"

"Yes," Tempest said, anything to calm him down.

Crouch was pulling her closer; Tempest tried to loosen Crouch's grip on her robes, but it was too powerful. "Warn … Dumbledore …"

"Yes, I will, just let go-" said Tempest. "Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I'll get him …"

"Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are attending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge."

Crouch was now talking fluently to a tree again, and seemed completely unaware that Tempest was there, which while she was still rather uneasy about him, she was grateful that he had let her go.

"Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.S, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister of Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response …"

Tempest glanced at Viktor, who had been knocked to the ground when Crouch had stood up, his face mirroring hers.

"You stay here, I'll go get Dumbledore- it'll be quicker-"

"But he is mad," Viktor said doubtfully to Tempest, glancing at Crouch.

"I know, but, it'll only be for a while," Tempest reassured, beginning to stand, but her movement seemed to have triggered another abrupt change in Crouch, who whirled around and grabbed Tempest around the knees, sending her crashing back down to the ground.

"Don't … leave … me!" he whispered, his eyes bulging again. "I … escaped … must warn … must tell … see Dumbledore … my fault … all my fault … Bertha … dead … all my fault … my son … my fault … tell Dumbledore … Tempest Potter … the Dark Lord … stronger … Tempestas Potter …"

Tempest struggled free, finally understanding Viktor's reluctance to stay with Crouch alone for any longer than he had to.

"Okay, fine, I'll send a patronus- I've been practicing sending messages…"

Tempest adjusted her grip on her wand, then said, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

A large silver shape burst out of Tempest's wand tip, and then cantered across the grounds towards the castle.

Tempest sent a quick prayer that her patronus reached Dumbledore quickly, she didn't want to spend any more time there than necessary.

"So, Viktor, do you want to try to get him to stand up? We could help him up to the castle maybe- meet Professor Dumbledore halfway-"

Viktor grimaced. "Anything than to remain here."

Tempest had just shifted the still babbling Mr Crouch's arm so that it was around her shoulders and she was supporting half his weight, and she was just turning to get Viktor to take his other arm, when there was the sound of a twig snapping, and as Tempest turned, there was a flash of red light, and then the world went black.

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest groaned and opened her eyes, coming face to face for the second time that term, with Snape.

Or was it Snape? Tempest remembered talking to Viktor, and there was absolutely no way that Snape could be there now… oh Merlin- was the overgrown bat now haunting her dreams? Horrible thought.

"I swear I'm going mad," Tempest muttered, dragging the sleeve of her robes across her face. "I swear, if I wake up again, just _one_ more time with your face in front of me, in a dream or not, I might just let those hundreds of people out there who want me dead to do the job…."

"I am afraid, Tempest, that this time that is not the case."

Tempest's head jerked up, and she tried to get to her feet, seeing Dumbledore standing beside Snape next to her, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses. However Dumbledore placed an arm on her shoulder, preventing her from standing. "Lie still for a moment, Tempest."

"Oh, Professor-" Tempest stammered, "Sorry, uh, why are you here? Um, why are we out here anyway?"

"I was hoping, Tempest, that you could tell us that, your Patronus?"

Tempest blinked at him confusedly before she realized what he was talking about.

"Oh! Oh, Mr Crouch! He was here!" Tempest remembered, "He kept on talking to trees like they were Percy- Percy Weasley, he looked horrible- ragged and torn, he was scaring us really- then he seemed to snap out of it, and then he asked for you Sir, but he wouldn't let me leave- so I sent you a patronus…"

Snape gave a visible start, but Dumbledore didn't even seem to notice, which left Tempest feeling rather confused. They both knew she could cast a Patronus Charm after all.

"…and what events do you remember up till you were stunned?"

"Well, I was helping Mr Crouch up and-" Tempest stopped suddenly as Dumbledore's words registered. "-hang on, I was _stunned_? Like the dragon in the first task?"

Tempest heard Snape's teeth click as they met, and he sighed impatiently. "_Yes_. We found you and Mr Krum lying stunned on the ground with no 'Mr Crouch' anywhere in sight."

"Viktor?" Tempest asked, why was it that whenever something dangerous happened there were always people around her who got hurt too? Like her and Hermione waking up in the corridor, and now her and Viktor being stunned…. And both times Snape was there… only Dumbledore trusted the man, and so Tempest should too… only she didn't.

Tempest looked around to see Viktor sitting up, and groaning, then looking around furiously, as though for his attacker.

"Tempest! He attacked you! I vos looking around to see vare you had sent your- Patronus is it? And vhen I turned back around, I saw him standing over you, and then he stunned me as vell!"

There was a sudden thundering of footsteps, and then Hagrid crashed through the trees, almost scaring the living daylights out of Tempest, with Moody following a few meters behind.

"Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said, his eyes widening, "Professor Snape- you sent a message Headmaster- Tempest! Why-"

"I met Hagrid when going down to the greenhouses," Moody cut in, stepping forwards, "He said something about a patronus-"

"Yes, Alastor, now, Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff," said Dumbledore, "His student has been attacked."

Hagrid gave a swift nod, then set off in the direction of the Black Lake where the Durmstrang ship was anchored.

Dumbledore turned to Moody, "Now, it is essential that you find Barty Crouch."

Moody frowned slightly, "Crouch? Barty Crouch? Is he here?"

"That remains to be seen," Dumbledore said, "I don't know where he is, but it is essential that we find him."

Moody's scarred face darkened slightly as he gave a nod and turned around and stumped away, his wand held out in front of him.

"What's going on?" Tempest asked, her eyes flashing from the disappearing figure of Moody back to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore looked at her, "I sent Hagrid to fetch Professor Karkaroff- he would want to be informed that his student has been attacked- and if Barty is here as you say- and clearly not in a reasonable frame of mind, he is a danger to himself and other students who happen to be wandering the grounds…"

Tempest's cheeks heated up. "Viktor just wanted to talk to me about Hermione," she said defensively. "I don't _usually_ end up near the Forbidden Forest at night."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and Snape sneered as Tempest said the words.

Tempest blushed as she recalled the many times she had been voluntarily in the Forbidden Forest at night. There was the first year- but then again, that was because she had detention, then second year when she willingly wandered into the forest and almost got eaten by giant spiders, and then third year when she had spent half the night running around in the forest chased by dementors and werewolves alike.

No one said anything else until they heard the unmistakable sound of Hagrid and Fang returning.

Tempest could see Karkaroff hurrying along behind them, wearing his sleek silver furs and looking pale and agitated.

"What is this?" he cried, when he saw Viktor and her on the ground, and Snape and Dumbledore beside them. "What's going on?"

Tempest quickly struggled to her feet, glancing around for her wand. She quickly spotted it, and stuffed it up her sleeve, then helped Viktor up, just as Karkaroff reached them.

"Ve vere attacked!" Viktor said, gesturing wildly at Tempest and then himself, "Mr Crouch, or votever his name-"

"Crouch attacked you?" Karkaroff said, merely giving Tempest the barest sideways glance before turning back to Viktor. "Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?"

"Igor-" Dumbledore began, but Karkaroff had drawn himself up, clutching his furs around him, looking livid.

"Treachery!" he bellowed, pointing at Dumbledore, "It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretences, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter-" he shot Tempest another sideways glance, "-into the tournament, though she is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair-"

Snape sneered at him, cutting Karkaroff off. "Restrain yourself Igor," Snape said, "You are making a scene, and your logic as to a plot against you is ridiculous. There is no ulterior motive, nor would Dumbledore authorize an attack on his own student-" he glanced at Tempest, "this is obviously work of a third party, perhaps even the one we discussed before."

Karkaroff fell silent, cowed, and even though Tempest didn't understand what Snape was talking about, she could tell Karkaroff and Dumbledore did. Hagrid and Viktor however, looked just as confused as Tempest.

"Come Viktor," Karkaroff said finally, beckoning coldly to Viktor. "I will be having words with your Ministry tomorrow Dumbledore, and further discuss this topic in greater detail."

He threw a final furious glance at Dumbledore, and then something that looked like a…. _betrayed_ look at Snape, before storming off, a hand on Viktor's shoulder, steering him away.

Hagrid glared after Karkaroff. "Blasted man," he cursed, "If yeh like, Professor, sir, I could set Fang on 'im if yeh wan'."

"No, thank you Hagrid," Dumbledore said sternly, even though Tempest detected a hint of a smile playing about his lips. "Now, if you would escort Tempest back up to the castle, Severus and I will scan the forest for any sign of the assailant."

Tempest wanted to protest- after all, she wanted to go with them to look for Mr Crouch and the person who attacked her (that was, if Mr Crouch and the assailant weren't one and the same) but she realized it was a childish request, and now all she wanted to do was to hurry to the Room of Requirement and tell Sirius all about it…. If only she still had the Marauder's Map… then she would be able to catch either of them instantly.

"Tempest," Dumbledore called Tempest back as she turned to follow Hagrid, who was already striding back up to the castle.

"Yes?" Tempest asked, pausing.

"I was interested to see your new Patronus," Dumbledore said, "I didn't know it had changed."

"Changed- what?" Tempest frowned slightly. She wasn't aware anything had changed… her Patronus was a doe… was there something wrong with it? "It's a doe right? What changed? You don't mean to say it's upped and turned into a stag or something do you?"

Tempest laughed inwardly. Sirius would get a kick out of that if it had. But still… what was wrong? Her patronus must have delivered the message, otherwise Snape and Dumbledore wouldn't be there…

"Nothing's wrong," Dumbledore hurried to reassure her, seeing her worried look, "Only I was rather surprised."

"Surprised about what?" Tempest asked, trying not to seem impatient. Dumbledore seemed to enjoy talking in riddles just for the sake of it.

"Your patronus," Dumbledore said, maddingly slowly. "The one that delivered your message, it wasn't a doe, it was a stallion."

~Y.-.Y~

Draco Lucius Malfoy's life felt like it was being played to him on a stupid black and white muggle television screen. In fact, all his life he had felt like that. He had never really had a say in anything that he did or didn't do, and quite honestly, he didn't really care either way. After all, he'd never lived any other way, or imagined any other way in which pure-bloods were above others of inferior blood to them, especially mud-bloods and those that consorted with them.

Hogwarts for him was like a breath of fresh air in the morning, he had thought that it would be wonderful, being in Slytherin, lording it over all the other lowly ones, having the support of others in his year… only then somehow his breath of air had turned foul and he found himself instead surrounded by incompetent buffoons who were only good for physical intimidation, a horrible girl latched to his side like a leech, and then the air was all cut off, and he literally felt like suffocating.

And then he realized something.

It had been just after the first task, and he had seen Potter almost shredded in half by the dragon, and yet- there she was, walking, smiling and laughing with the mud-blood Granger, and two blood-traitor Weasleys up to the castle.

By Draco's own side, there were three other pure-bloods, all from noble lines, two of them duller than bricks, and one maddingly obsessed with him. Sure he smirked and boasted and laughed with them, regaled them with tales of his riches at home, and things his father said… he was happy… in a way.

Except then, looking at the backs of Potter and her friends- possibly the least desirable people to ever be seen in company with, Draco had a feeling he didn't even know what the word 'happy' meant. After all, if happy was what he defined it as, it was a pretty sorry emotion. 'Happy' as Draco had experienced it- if he had at all- was nothing compared to the way that Potter and her friends looked as they laughed, so carefree and so damn content!

How _could _someone be that happy hanging around filthy mud-bloods and blood traitors… and a half-blood to boot.

Only now that he thought about it clearly- clearly, without any hint of his prejudices- Granger was smarter than every other person in their year at school, and she was a muggle-born! Weasley… Draco didn't know much about him, but he did know how to throw a decent hex, and he didn't have anyone hanging around him for his status or wealth, he had genuine friends, friends who seemed to enjoy his company merely because of who he was, not _what _he was. And then there was Potter. Parents dead- supposedly living with muggles, people watching her every move, fatal attacks every other week… and yet she could still smile in a way that made Draco burn with a ridiculous envy to somehow feel the same way.

The thoughts had mulled around in his mind for weeks, and then Potter's face began haunting him, laughing at a joke that only she could understand, always in the front of his mind, dancing before his eyes until it drove him to distraction.

He didn't know _why _he kept on thinking about her, _why _he couldn't get her out of his mind… only he began noticing things, noticing tiny details that only fixed her more inside his mind.

There were the obvious things, like how she excelled at Transfigurations, Charms, and Potions, her love of flying and Quidditch, the way her close knit group of friends mainly consisted of the Weasleys and Granger, occasionally joined by a third-year Ravenclaw, Lawgoode or something of that sort, and Longbottom. Her infamous fiery temper which Draco had always associated with red-heads, burned hot and cold, flared up and died down just as quickly…

And then there were the details that were only obvious when one paid attention. Tiny details that somehow Draco couldn't forget.

The way she adored an odd muggle beverage called coffee in the mornings. Her wicked sense of humour with the Weasley twins. Her tendency to blurt out the first thing that came to mind. And she was pretty too.

It had never really crossed his mind before- of course, she wasn't bad to look at, but he had always thought of her as _Potter_, his rival and arch-nemesis… not an actual person. She had shot up the past year, only stopping an centimetre or so shorter than himself, and she had always hunched slightly, being tall and lanky, and now she walked straight and confident, and when she smiled it was a full genuine smile, her eyes lighting up and sparkling when she laughed, and her sharp well cut features.

Draco vaguely remembered that most pure-blood decedents had aristocratic looks, even Weasley and Longbottom had them, and wasn't Potter's father a pure-blood?

But still. Draco couldn't see why on earth he was so preoccupied with her. She spent more time with boys in her house than the girls, but he knew she wasn't with any of them in any way… she'd never shown the slightest preference for him, and nor had he for her, she was a Gryffindor and he was a Slytherin…

It was just an infatuation, Draco told himself time and time again, only Tempest's face refused to leave his mind, making him wonder when he had begun thinking of Potter as Tempest…

And then one day, after sending a letter home to his parents and descending the Owlery steps, Draco had run into the very person who had been in his mind for the past month.

He hadn't know what to say, only somehow the words had come spilling out… and then he had asked her to go to the ball with him. And she had said yes. And she had actually seemed like she was looking forward to it- or at least, not loathing the moment.

And that was when Draco realized why of all the girls in the school he liked her. Because in that moment, when he had turned awkwardly and walked away, for the first time in his life, he had been happy. Happy in a way that he had never believed possible, just the immense feeling of warmth and a thousand other feelings he couldn't identify. It was like the black and white screen of his life had been broken and suddenly all the colours, colours he'd never seen before had flooded in, overwhelming him, drowning him… and Draco didn't want to surface.

That was when he knew he was lost.

He would never be able to go back, go back to thinking like before where he was above everyone else, be a dutiful heir to the Malfoy fortune and loyal Slytherin. He was a boy trapped in the dark, released into the light, filled with colours and joy- and he would never return into the dark ever again.

He was lost, and he didn't want to be found.

~Y.-.Y~

Draco was a selfish person.

Selfish, but at least he admitted it.

He wanted to see Tempest happy, wanted to see her eyes sparkling and laughter dancing in her face, wanted to be the one who made her smile every day, and he would do almost anything to do it.

Draco didn't know when exactly the revelation came about, only that it was a well-known fact that Tempest didn't trust easily, and she wouldn't just let Draco into her life. He had done too much stupid childish things in the past to her and her friends, so many things that if they had been done to him, he would never have forgiven.

So he was stuck.

Tempest's face had begun haunting him again, floating in front of him, showing him all that he wanted, and all that he couldn't have.

He was fifteen, only fifteen, and she was fourteen, and it was a foolish notion, but he felt as though he _needed_ her.

Completely and totally ridiculous.

Blaise Zambini found Draco slumped against a wall in the Charms corridor.

Draco didn't know Zambini well, only that he liked to keep to himself, which was fine, because that was what most Slytherins did.

Except then Zambini dropped his bag on the ground next to Draco and sat down, handing Draco a book.

"What-" Draco blinked as he looked at the book, recognizing it to be his potion's book.

"You left it at your desk last lesson," Zambini said, eying the book. "I hope you don't mind that I took a look inside."

"Nah, it's fine-" Draco's eyes fell on an open page. His voice was forcedly controlled as he replied. "Did you see-"

"The sketch of Potter? Very artistic- and yes I did."

Draco was alternating between bribing Zambini, or hexing him to next week. "Well," Draco forced out, "Just a warning Zambini- if you tell a single soul-"

Zambini waved him off. "Calm down Malfoy, don't wet yourself- your secret's safe with me- I've known for a while now anyway, the way you look at her when she can't see… Merlin…"

Draco almost openly gapped at him. "Alright then, what do you want?" A Slytherin never kept anyone else's secrets without demanding a payment . Blackmail in a way. "Money?" Draco asked, testing to see what Zambini wanted. "Want me to introduce you to some people?"

"Merlin, Malfoy, I don't want a thing!" Zambini said, surprising the bloody hell out of Draco.

"That's not very Slytherin of you," Draco said, still slightly in shock. "You can hold that over me pretty well Zambini."

"Yes, I could," Zambini shrugged, "But I'm not going to… I am however guessing that your attempts on her are not working."

Draco sat up straighter, closing his potions book with a snap. "If you think that I'm going to trust you and give you details-"

"No I don't, not yet at least, but your getting together with Potter is actually quite beneficial to me."

Draco eyed him suspiciously. "How?" he bit out.

"Let me just say, that I might have a… similar predicament with one of Potter's friends." Zambini said, fidgeting slightly.

"Who?" Draco asked, genuinely interested now. "Granger?" He didn't know exactly when he had stopped referring to Granger as 'mud-blood' only that now the name seemed childish and stupid to him.

Zambini shook his head. "Salazar, I have no idea why I am telling you Malfoy, but think red."

"Weasley?" Draco said, "That Ginny Weasley?"

The expression on Zambini's face was all the answer Draco needed.

"Merlin…" Draco said as he slumped back down against the wall. "A fine pair aren't we?"

Zambini merely shook his head.

There was a long pause and then Draco broke the silence, "Then for Salazar's sake, _why_ on earth are you keeping my secret- or telling me that you know? You're acting like a bloody Hufflepuff- or Gryffindor with this information!"

Zambini didn't seem insulted at all. "For goodness's sake, calm down Malfoy," he drawled. "I just think that it would be mutually beneficial for the both of us if we helped each other."

"_Beneficial?_ Bloody beneficial? What on earth are you talking about?"

"Use your brains, Malfoy!" said Zambini exasperated. "If you manage to get together with Potter, Ginny's one of her friends right? So if you spend time with Potter, then I have an excuse to hang out with Ginny too!"

Draco stared, speechless.  
"You're that serious about her?" Draco asked, incredulous.

"I could say the same about you."

"Yeah, but that's… different."

Zambini laughed. "Sure, in what way?"

"No idea."

Another long pause.

"Geez, Zambini…" Draco paused slightly, trying to rearrange his thoughts. "So, how exactly do you suppose I get Tempest to… I dunno- just get her to trust me? I mean, I might not know her that well, but I know for a fact she wouldn't just start trusting anyone- especially not me, I mean, I've acted like an absolute prat and bigoted git to her so far… I mean, if you were her and I just upped and said I had a crush on you, what'd you do?"

"Whip out my wand and hex you so you never reproduce?" Zambini supplied instantly.

Draco grimaced. "Along those lines, yeah."

"In all honesty?" Zambini said, sighing, "Be honest. For Merlin's sake, listening to your sad, pathetic, repenting speech, I'm already convinced you've morphed into a love-struck fool."

Draco gave a rather forced laugh. "You know, Zambini, for someone who's not being very sympathetic or exactly helpful at the moment… you're not bad."

"Well thank you," Zambini smirked, "Your words fall as diamonds from the sky."

Draco laughed, actually rather surprised that he was doing so. He hadn't had much to do with Zambini before, especially seeing as the other boy was only a second-born pure-blood. His mother was a pure-blood, and had married seven times, but her only son was the son of a half-blood she had had a one night stand with. Details like that were common conversation topics for pure-bloods.

"No, but seriously, how do you just start again from years of prejudice and trying to make her life miserable?"

Zambini shrugged. "Amazingly enough, I can actually think of several ways to, but I have a feeling that if you actually want to get somewhere with Potter, you need to be completely honest and genuine with her… Oh great… I don't know when I started talking like this, but well, she doesn't seem like the kind to appreciate liars or… oh, I hate guy talk… just be your own damn self- that way you know that if she gets together with you then she likes you for your own un-attractive personality, and not something you're not…. And if she rejects you… worst thing that happens is… you get rejected. No big deal."

"Not for you!" Draco said exasperated. He sighed and stood, brushing off his robes. "Well, thanks, I guess, for the… help." He paused for a moment, "-and, I swear, if you tell a soul-"

"Yeah, you'll kill me. I got it. You are really _way_ too dramatic you know, Draco."

Draco turned back, "Zambini… since when are we on first name basis?"

"Since now."

"Just… You know what Blaise? Just piss off."

~Y.-.Y~

Draco woke up only to find himself in another dream, just as he had for the past few weeks. He had never imagined life could be just so… full of life. It only occurred to him just then just how lifeless he had been before, or rather, how much life he had been missing out on. It was simply amazing, the things he hadn't been aware of until then.

They studied together in the library every other night, just him, Tempest, and sometimes Hermione, Blaise and Weasley. (He was on speaking terms with Weasley, but not on first name basis yet.)

He couldn't believe his luck had been so good. He had apologized to Hermione just outside of the Great Hall one night, and had been amazed at himself to find that he actually meant it.

It was odd, all of his attempts to make up for his childish stupidity in the past few years had all gone… surprisingly well. He had actually _meant_ every word that he said, and it was just so _easy_ to get along with all of the people Draco had previously called mud-bloods, filthy half-bloods and blood-traitors. They weren't any different from pure-bloods…. Better even. Once Draco had earned their trust, the majority of them didn't treat him any differently from any of their own.

Of course, that meant that all of Slytherin (with the exception of Blaise) turned against him, but to his surprise, Draco didn't care much. He was glad to be well rid of Crabbe and Goyle, and that Parkinson.

After all, what he had now was a thousand times better than what he thought he had before.

And he had Tempest. And that was all he really needed in his own mind.

But then, like all things, it couldn't last.

"Malfoy!"

Draco turned to see Lawrence Terier, a sixth year prefect hurrying towards him.

"What, Terier?" Draco asked rather impatiently. Whenever someone in Slytherin wanted to talk to Draco those days, it was usually a lecture on consorting with mud-bloods and filth alike.

"Professor Snape wants to see you," Terier said flatly. "His office. No idea why, but I suggest you hurry it, Malfoy."

Draco gave Terier a curt nod, "Thanks."

Draco quickly rushed down to the Transfiguration corridor. Tempest was expecting him down by the Black lake with Hermione where they were still trying to change Tempest into a dolphin.

"Tempest!" Draco called, seeing her familiar shaggy head of hair next to Hermione's bushy one.

Tempest turned, and Draco felt a smile mirroring hers grow rather foolishly on his own. It seemed like an almost automatic response every time he saw her, and completely uncontrollable.

Draco couldn't remember _why_ on earth he had been such a complete git towards her for three years previously, or that he hadn't seen what was so glaringly obvious to him now.

"Draco!" Tempest said, throwing down her wand rather carelessly, and gave Draco a rough hug.

Hermione sighed, coming up behind Tempest. "Thank goodness you're here, Draco," she sighed, "She's impossible, and has the absolute lowest attention span I have ever come across!"

Draco laughed slightly, replying over Tempest's shoulder. "Well, sorry Hermione, but I've got to meet Professor Snape in his office."

"What? Why?" Tempest asked, frowning. "You're not in trouble?"

Draco shrugged. "Not sure, I'm headed there now, just wanted to pop by and give you a kiss-" he pecked Tempest once, making Hermione smile knowingly at him, and Weasley, who was approaching, yell out, "Malfoy! Quit snogging my friend!"

"Shut it Weasley!" Draco yelled back, laughing though. He redirected his attention to Tempest. "So, I'll see you soon then?"

She kissed him back, then pulled away, leaving Draco feeling oddly fuzzy and light-headed.

"Sure," she grinned, "Second task's tomorrow- hopefully I'll have managed to be a bloody flipper waving sea-mammal by then."

"Good luck," Draco said, "-and if that doesn't work, not that I don't believe that you can, but I found a spell the other day- it's called the Bubble-head charm…" he dug around in the pocket of his robes for the scrap of parchment which he had the spell written on, and handed it to Tempest. "See you!"

Tempest called a farewell in return, then Draco turned and walked back to the castle. He hoped Severus (as he called his godfather) didn't want him for anything too serious.

He had always been rather lenient with Draco, something he had always taken advantage of in getting the Gryffindors into trouble in Potions. It was actually rather odd now, as it was only Parkinson and the rest who mocked the Gryffindors, Severus had actually been stricter on the Slytherin students lately, and instead of calling Tempest out for ridiculous reasons, he had been studiously ignoring her, perhaps because she was sitting with his godson, and Draco knew that as good as Severus was towards him, the man was rather biased.

Draco reached Severus's office, knocked, then as the familiar cool voice said, "Enter," Draco stepped through, only to come face to face with his father.

"Father!" Draco blurted, "Severus?"

Severus's face was emotionless as usual as he motioned towards Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. "As I see you have gathered, you father and mother called in for a word. I will be stepping out for now."

He swept out past Draco, through the door to his office, and out of sight.

Draco turned back to his parents. Truth be told, he had rather been expecting them to turn up sooner or later, after his reply to their latest letter telling him to cease relations to Tempest.

"Draco," Lucius acknowledged.

Draco edged further into the room, warily. He wasn't stupid, and he had a very good idea of why his parents were at Hogwarts. Although he did admit that it wasn't like them to get involved personally- a howler seemed more likely… but then again, it was considered above the Malfoy's to lower themselves to such crude methods.

"Father, what are you doing here-"

"Draco," Lucius interrupted with an urgency that surprised his son so much that he fell silent. "Listen, we don't have much time- I know there's a spy for the Dark Lord in Hogwarts- be silent and _listen!_"

Lucius was now leaning forwards, hands on Draco's shoulders, staring intently at his son, while Narcissa Malfoy stood a few steps behind her husband, wringing her hands nervously.

"The Dark Lord is rising again-" Lucius said, his voice barely louder than a whisper, "the Dark Mark at the World Cup was just a warning for all of us-"

"The Dark Lord? What- but-"

"Will you just _listen_ boy? Your… _relationship_ with that Potter girl, it's _dangerous!_"

Draco's mouth fell open indignantly. "In what way? I may be besmirching the noble name of Malfoy, by spending time with muggle-borns and half-bloods but that doesn't mean-"

"Were you not listening before? Merlin's word, Draco, you're intelligent! _Think!_"

"Think of what? You're not making any sense-"

"The Dark Lord-"

"It's all just talk! Its got nothing to do with Tempest or-"

"Just look!" Lucius hissed, yanking the sleeve of his left arm upwards.

Draco recoiled, seeing the imprint of the black ink on his father's forearm.

"The Dark Mark-"

"It's been darkening ever since the World Cup," said Lucius, pulling his sleeve back down roughly. "It faded after Halloween night thirteen years ago, but now it is becoming more visible… do you have _any _idea how long it has taken me to gain a standing above question in the Ministry? To have the perfect excuse should the Dark Lord return? That I was always loyal- and that I never renounced the old ways…"

Draco shook his head, "What do you mean? An excuse?"

"Have you been listening to nothing of what I was saying before?" Lucius said impatiently, "the events of last year- Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban-"

"But Black's innocent! Tempest told me the whole story, it was their other friend- Pettigrew-"

"You think I do not know that?" Lucius snapped, "Pettigrew escaped in the end also, made his way back to the Dark Lord is my best gamble- and the disappearance of that Jorkins woman is linked most likely… and then there's they spy at Hogwarts to take into reckoning-"

"So- are you sure? Tempest could be in danger-"

Lucius made a dismissive motion with his head, "It is not her safety that is the most pressing matter- _your_… continued proximity to Potter puts a stone over all our heads! It is perhaps one thing to escape the wrath of the Dark Lord for merely hiding, but consorting with his enemies in his absence…" he shook his head.

Draco stared at his father. "So… what? You want me to break up with her?"

"Cease relations with her at the very least," Lucius said, running a weary hand through his platinum hair which was identical to his sons. "Try to see the bigger picture, Draco, you are putting all of our lives in danger, and it does not help us that doubtless the spy at Hogwarts- whose identity I have no hint as to his/her identity…"

"But…" Draco's world was unravelling before his eyes. This was a hundred- no, a thousand times worse than whatever he could have imagined. It would have been _better_ if all his father wanted was to yell at him and threaten him by disowning him… "But I just…"

Draco didn't want to finish the sentence, childish as it was, but of all things to happen… He had worked so damn _hard_ to gain Tempest's trust… to get where he was now… he had _said_ he wasn't going back into the dark… only if he didn't, then his family would get killed… and for all their pure-blooded mania, they _were_ family, and after spending so much time with Tempest, Draco could fully appreciate it. And after all, hadn't he been just as prejudiced a few months ago?

"Can't I just… tell her the truth and then sort things out from then?" Draco asked, almost desperate. "You… I mean, you don't… still support the Dark Lord… do you?"

The expression on Lucius's haughty aristocratic face spoke volumes more than his words, but it was Narcissa who knelt down beside her son with an uncharacteristic display of emotion. "Sometimes you don't have a choice Draco."

~Y.-.Y~

_Sometimes you don't have a choice Draco._

Draco snorted, glaring across his room at the portrait of himself and his family. That was the stupidest thing he had ever heard in his life. He had learnt such from Tempest that you _always_ had a choice…

And now he hated himself with a passion he didn't think possible.

He had tried delaying the inevitable for days, trying to think of a way to tell Tempest. He could have told her the whole truth, worked through it together… except then every moment he was in her presence he just couldn't seem to muster up the courage to. He was a Slytherin after all, not a Gryffindor…

And then the morning that it happened, right before potions, Tempest had burst into the Slytherin common room and shoved the article from the Witch Weekly under his nose.

He had wanted to _kill_ that Skeeter woman, to tear her to pieces and burn the bits, he had never seen such a despicable pack of lies thrust together… only it was his chance, and it would soon pass, and so the lies fell from his mouth like a river, and once he had started he couldn't stop… he was a Slytherin after all, a Slytherin to the core, and he _knew_ that maybe it was best that it ended like that where Tempest _hated_ him, therefore making it certain that she couldn't put herself in any more danger by associating herself with him, (if his father still _was_ a Death Eater), or put his family in danger from the Dark Lord…

And then he had slammed her against a wall and _shook_ her- her, who Draco knew it would affect the most… He _knew_ what Tempest had been through- or at least, he knew the main outline- and he had done the unthinkable and put her in the exact same situation with someone she thought she could trust.

Draco slammed his fist into the stone wall which is bed was adjacent to, bruising his knuckles.

_Danm_ the Dark Lord!

Everything he had done- everything that he had managed to do- even becoming accepted by the majority of Gryffindor… _friends_ with people he had hated before… his entire perspective had changed, he _hated_ those prejudiced Slytherins now- and yet they were now hailing him as a hero for pulling one over the Gryffindor and humiliating the Potter 'brat'.

The Gryffindors, who Draco had actually begun to consider more his friends than the Slytherins glared at him as he passed the hallways, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw didn't seem to admire him much either.

He **_hated_**Skeeter! Not only did the woman have to write of him as some sort of player, it also had to make Tempest out as some sort of… scarlet woman!

Draco sighed. That sounded rather like something Weasley would say… if all the Weasleys weren't so busy shooting him murderous looks. The twins and Ron especially.

Ginny Weasley wasn't so much glaring at Draco so much as Blaise.

Draco felt a rather wry smile creep across his face. At least Zambini was in the same position as him. Only Blaise hadn't shaken the living daylights out of the girl who he was besotted with… or made the girl in question the subject of nine out of ten subjects in gossip around the school.

Tempest wouldn't even look at him those days now, not so much as a glance in the hallways… always laughing with the twins about something or another as they passed… Draco couldn't tell whether or not it was a mask or not… after all, Tempest was the worst possible actor in the world… and perhaps the next…

But apart from the fact that she seemed to laugh a little too loudly, and smile a little too brightly in the Great Hall, she seemed wholly unaffected by his absence, pranking with the twins as usual, studying in the library with Hermione and occasionally Krum… maybe she did go up to bed after dinner earlier than usual those days, accompanied by her usual group of friends, but she didn't seem as affected as Draco did in any way.

Draco groaned, resting his forehead against the wall. He had to go around smirking and sneering with Parkinson and the rest, pretending to be _enjoying_ the praise, _basking_ in the fact that he'd publicly humiliated his former-girlfriend, lost her trust, gained her hatred and become utterly despicable to himself.

He hadn't known it was possible to hate anyone that much.

He hadn't known it was possible to hate himself that much.


	11. Chapter 11

C11: Conversations.

"Well I never…"

Sirius and Tempest watched the silver stallion toss it's mane proudly as it cantered in circles around the pair of them.

"Prongs would be crying if he could see this." Sirius said reverently as the stallion nuzzled his palm.

Tempest managed a smile, "And you would tease him about it for years afterward, wouldn't you, Padfoot?"

Sirius gave an odd laugh. "You know it, Tempest."

Tempest and Sirius sat down on the carpeted floor of the Room of Requirement as Tempest's new Patronus faded into silver mist.

"Why _do_ Patronus's change?" Tempest asked, staring idly at her wand.

Sirius at his hands, "Dunno really. Suppose it's a question for Dumbledore… I wouldn't know, it's kind of like animagus forms… just they show you who _you_ are, and Patronus's… I think they represent what give you strength… that's a guess though, so, yeah, I dunno."

Tempest frowned musingly, "So… a stallion… Huh, it'd be interesting to know what I would be as an animagus…"

Sirius grinned like it was what he had been waiting for all along. "Why don't you learn then?"

Tempest gapped at him. "…what?"

Sirius cocked his head to the side in a decidedly dog-like fashion. "Why not, Tempest? You're a Marauder, just as smart as Prongs is was Transfigurations… and I'll help!"

"Yes, but, _Sirius_… Minnie's told me about how _long_ and _dangerous_ it is to become an animagus…"

"Temper! It's not really as hard as they make out- only the Ministry of Magic insists on putting you through all these ridiculous and unnecessary tests… It actually only took Prongs and I six months to complete the transformation in fifth year… We only found out about Moony's furry little problem in Second Year, spent all of Third Year in the library getting enough information to actually understand what becoming an animagus entailed, and then Fourth Year we just pooled our information until we'd got a step-by-step plan on how to complete the transformation… and then we practiced Fifth Year… Now, if you're even half as good at Transfiguration as Prongs was, you should be skipping about as a different species by next year at least… and you get to skip those three years we spent trying to figure out the process."

Tempest laughed, trying to pretend the idea didn't tempt her. "Maybe later, Sirius."

"What's your Patronus, Sirius?" Tempest asked suddenly, breaking the rather peaceful silence which had fallen between the two.

Sirius paused, almost as if trying to remember. "It's been so long since I last saw my Patronus," Sirius said, almost wistfully, "Same people who threw me into Azkaban probably snapped my wand in the process."

Tempest glanced at Sirius's sideways profile. She couldn't imagine what it would feel like to lose her wand… it was part of her- and having it _snapped_ to her was almost as painful in her mind as perhaps losing an arm, or a leg. There was wandless magic… but Tempest hadn't covered that yet.

"Here," Tempest said, impulsively handing her wand to Sirius. "I know it's not the same but-"

Sirius smiled weakly at Tempest. "No, no, it's fine," he said, "I'd never…"

He gripped Tempest's wand, and weak gold sparks flew from the tip. Tempest mentally sighed in relief. That meant her wand accepted Sirius, albeit reluctantly. Once, when Tempest had let Ron use her wand as a substitute for his own broken wand, it had blasted him backwards and into a wall as soon as Ron's hand had touched the handle.

"Expecto Patronum!" said Sirius, and a enormous silver shaggy dog burst from Tempest's wand tip. It didn't glow as brightly as Tempest's did, but the glow still lit up the entire room, banishing all of the shadows and casting a warm glow around Sirius and Tempest.

The dog barked silently, running in circles around Tempest, then licking Sirius's face affectionately.

"Your Patronus is a dog too," Tempest said, watching the dog chase its tail around the room. "Why is that?"

Sirius shrugged. "No idea. I really wish I could answer that question, but I have no idea. I suppose you just have a more complicated personality, and so you need two forms to describe yourself."

Tempest shook her head, laughing. "You know, I don't know whether or not to take that as a compliment or an insult."

Sirius barked a laugh too. "You remind me so much of Prongs, you know? When you do that…"

"Do what?"

"Your dad could get a laugh out of anyone, anytime." Said Sirius, "I dunno whether it was a talent or just the way he was, but the worst times- the times when he himself felt the worst, he could still laugh louder than anyone else in the room and turn a serious conversation around… I look at you, and sometimes it's like James is staring back at me clear as day… Oh, he'd get a kick out of the fact that his face looks pretty good on a girl… and then Lily would yell at us for a while to act our age around you…"

Sirius broke off suddenly, seeing Tempest drag the sleeve of her robes across her eyes roughly.

"Hey, Temper, you alright?"

"Peachy." Tempest replied, grinning awkwardly. "Honestly. Just- just keep talking about them- no one ever does… Properly I mean- like actual people, I can almost pretend that I know them…"

Sirius gave Tempest a long searching look, his grey eyes meeting Tempest's green, then with an acknowledging dip of his head he continued. "You've got Lily's eyes- I expect you know that well enough now- but you've got so much else from her… she always wanted to see the best in people, picked up tiny details which other people missed… When she smiled, she could make the whole room brighter… I actually had a crush on her in fourth year too, you know… your dad didn't like that at all… he broke my nose fighting over her, and then she flew into her famous temper, saying she'd rather eat flobberworms than go out with either of us… oh, she did have a great sense of humour, but she didn't like our pranks- said they were immature... she laughed at them though, when she thought we weren't looking."

Sirius twirled Tempest's wand around his fingers, musing. "When they got together in seventh year I was so happy for them… sure, they had their fights, and oh, they were a sight to behold… but they always made up and got closer afterward… I was their best man at their wedding, and I don't think either of them stopped smiling the entire night… I swear my own facial muscles were spasming the day after… I miss them too you know." Sirius said after a moment. "_So_ much. I miss my best friend… I miss my brother… I miss my sister- literally now actually… they were just such a constant part of my life… I never really believed they were gone… I still don't actually… I still wait every night for James to pop through the floo and tell me to get up off my lazy arse and get to work at the Ministry- we were both training to be Auror's before he and Lily… well…"

"Yeah." Tempest interrupted. "Yeah."

There was silence for several more seconds, then Sirius spoke up, his voice suspiciously cheery. "So, what were you saying about before you discovered about your new Patronus?"

"Oh, right." Tempest said gratefully, "I went for a walk with Viktor after finding out about the Third Task, and we bumped into Mr Crouch- don't interrupt!" Tempest glared half-heartedly at Sirius as she finished outlining the events of the night.

Sirius's expression darkened further and further as Tempest continued, until his fists were clenched so tightly his ragged nails dug into his palms.

"Someone stunned you?" Sirius bit out, his teeth clenched together. "No, I don't think it was Crouch," Sirius said hastily, catching Tempest's look, "if it was, then why did he take the risk of showing himself and putting on the act of being insane?"

"I don't think that it was an act." Tempest said wryly, recalling Crouch's odd appearance and wild ramblings.

"Yes, but even so, the fact remains that you _were_ attacked, and by someone who I seriously doubt has your best interests at heart."

Tempest snorted. "You can say that again. So our options are this: I know it wasn't Mr Crouch, unless he's very good at stunning people while wandless and half-mad, I'm pretty sure it wasn't Viktor, I was turning _towards_ him when I was hit with the spell, and I know it came from behind me… and it wasn't Snape either, he came with Dumbledore I suppose… he'd have to move mighty fast to be able to curse me and Viktor then get to Dumbledore… oh I don't know!"

Tempest finished with a huff, and threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Just what exactly is so _wrong_ with a nice quiet year for once?"

Sirius laughed, and then sobered somewhat. "So, go through it all again- what exactly was Crouch talking about?"

"Stuff about warning Dumbledore- he kept asking for him like it was life or death… he mentioned Bertha Jorkins- he said she was dead… then he said my name… mentioned his son, then kept saying it was his fault- which it was, but for some reason, I don't think that's what he was talking about… he was out of his mind. Half the time he sounded like he thought he was talking to Percy about work and giving him orders- then the other he was talking about his family as though they were still alive… and then the other half the time, when he actually seemed to know what was happening, he kept on ranting about Voldemort getting stronger."

Sirius gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath. "Are you sure? Was he saying that when he was acting sane- or-"

"Insane but sane? Or, sane but insane?"

"Round about, yeah." Sirius snickered.

Tempest laughed rather self-consciously. "He said it when he was insane but sane, when he actually seemed to realize where he was."

Sirius looked as if that was the last thing he wanted to hear.

Tempest didn't blame him.

"Well," Sirius said, as if trying to reassure himself and Tempest at the same time while not believing what he himself was saying. "Dumbledore was there after all later- nothing can happen-"

"Mr Crouch was _asking_ for Dumbledore."

"Oh, right. That screws that idea." Sighed Sirius.

"Language." Tempest replied rather half-heartedly.

"Lily." Sirius said.

Tempest smiled. It was nice to be related to her mom sometimes. She was only ever compared to her father, apart from the rare occasions when Professor Flitwick talking about how great her mother was at Charms…

…and then again, even though it made Tempest feel like she actually _knew_ her parents, had some kind of connection to them when they said just how like them she was, she also felt like no-one really saw _her_ properly- after all, she couldn't just be pieces of her parents stuck together, could she? There had to be some of her that was just completely… herself.

But then, Sirius was different, he _knew_ Tempest was her own person, and Tempest _liked _it when he talked about her parents. If he wasn't there… she didn't know who she'd have.

"Oh, give me my wand back," Tempest said, gesturing for her wand, pretending not to see the way that Sirius's hand tightened on the hilt momentarily before he handed it back.

"Back to the point," Tempest said, heaving a breath. "Dumbledore sent Professor Moody off to find Mr Crouch- I don't know whether he found anything though-"

"Of course, that was approximately an hour ago." Sirius joked. "I suggest you talk to Mad-Eye then… But what did you do? Run straight up here?"

Tempest shrugged. "I- I did… I… walked. Fast."

She caught Sirius's eye, and then grinned sheepishly. "Oh fine then, but I wanted to see you- and in any case, _I_ thought you might be helpful… clearly not."

Sirius grinned, "Oh, come on Tempest! I'm a great help! Admit it!"

"Can't admit what I don't believe."

"And there you are with James again."

Tempest scowled playfully at him. "Shut it, Padfoot."

"Temper, temper, Temper."

"Now that's just pathetic."

~Y.-.Y~

Tempest headed up to the Owlery the next morning to send Remus a letter about the recent happenings, to ask whether he had any news from his end of the spectrum.

To be completely honest, it unverred her to have been attacked, then left unscathed with no visible sign of harm…

It all seemed rather pointless, and Tempest, knowing what magic could do… she was scared.

After all, yes, Viktor had been attacked too, but to Tempest, it felt like someone had it out for her again that year. First there was the entering of her name into the goblet of fire, then the apparent wiping of her memory in that hallway with Hermione, and now this.

Tempest was a Gryffindor, and yes, she did like to think that at the first sign of danger she wouldn't just run away, but there was a very thin line between bravery and stupidity, and Tempest, for all her faults, wasn't stupid. She wasn't about to go up against something she didn't even know.

She finished tying a letter to the leg of Pigwidgeon, (Athena was off sending a letter for the twins.) and was about to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast when she heard a couple of familiar voices approaching the Owlery.

"For goodness sakes, it shouldn't have come to this, but we need to start making some threats- things he wouldn't want others knowing-"

"You can't do that! That's blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that-"

"-we've tried being polite; it's time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn't like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did-"

"I'm telling you, if you put that in writing, it's blackmail!"

Tempest sighed, recognizing the voices, and she walked over to the Owlery door and opened it, rather effectively cutting off the rest of whatever Fred was about to say next.

"Boys, if you're going to blackmail, you might want to check that there's no one around listening to your very obvious and incriminating conversation."

The twins heads snapped up, but as they saw Tempest, they relaxed visibly.

"Geez, Hedgy, just give us a heart attack!" George joked, laughing uneasily.

"Yeah, that's very nice," Tempest drawled. "Who're you blackmailing?"

The pair of them stopped, exchanging a glance which Tempest badly wanted to roll her eyes at.

"Should we tell her?" Fred whispered to George, even though Tempest could hear every single word.

"Yes, please _do_ tell the person who can hear every word you say," Tempest said, "and then, after that, you might just want to _get to the point_."

Fred laughed nervously. "Well, see here Tempest-"

"Oh just tell her, Fred, it's Tempest after all!" George said exasperated. "S'not like she'll tell anyone- she could even help!"

"Help with what?" said Tempest impatiently.

George exchanged one last glance with Fred, almost as if asking for permission, then, as Fred sighed and nodded, George turned to Tempest.

"Okay, so Hedgy, to the point then, uh, you know the Quiddtich World Cup…"

"Yes?"

"The bet we had with Bagman- well-"

"Don't tell me- he didn't pay it back?"

George snorted. "Oh, no, he paid it back alright."

"Then what-"

"He paid it back in leprechaun gold."

"Oh." Tempest blinked as she realized what George was saying. "And that gold-"

"-vanishes after midnight, yup."

"So all this time- the whispering you two have been doing together, all of that is trying to get Bagman to pay you back?"

"Yeah," Fred cut in, "except, it seems Bagman, for all his bluster, owes money to a group of particularly bloodthirsty goblins, and can't pay us back… they've been hunting him around the place, but he's broke- and we don't really care about the goblins so much- we just want our money… so any ideas Tempest?"

Tempest laughed nervously. "Go against goblins? Fred- George, I value my skin."

"No, not against the goblins! We're not that crazy- yet- we rather like our skins too. _We_ just want to make sure that if Bagman pays us off before them- if he doesn't hit rock bottom in the process."

Tempest stared at them for a moment. "Look, I could give you the money myself- I don't mind-"

"Tempest-"

"No- honestly, it's no problem-"

"Hedgy, it's our money, and we're going to get it back from Bagman, no matter what it takes- it's only fair. If we took the money from you, it's like we're stealing!"

Tempest sighed, rolling her eyes. Money had always been a touchy subject with the Weasleys, and even the easy-going twins considered t a blow to their pride when the subject was brought up. Tempest understood- pride being one of her most fatal flaws- but she couldn't pretend that sometimes they just didn't understand that all she wanted to do was help out a little. There was no pity involved at all.

"Alright," Tempest said, sighing inwardly. "So… you need help?"

For a moment, she thought the twins were about to refuse, then Fred shrugged. "Why not? He seems to be around you a lot, maybe you could pressure him into caving?"

Tempest grinned. "I thought that was what blackmailing was meant to do."

George had the good grace to look slightly sheepish. "Well, that was going to be a last resort… now though, we've got an alternate plan."

"Oh, so now I'm an alternate?"

"You know, this was meant to be _easy_." Fred joked.

Tempest waved him off. "Whatever. In any case, blackmailing aside- what do you want me to do?"

Fred frowned. "Well, you _could_ try to win the Tournament."

"Win the- excuse me, what? How does that help in any way?"

The twins exchanged glances again, and Tempest sighed in frustration. If they did that _one_ more time…

"Well, you see Hedgy, Bagman made a bet with the goblins for them to wipe the slate clean… it was that, well, he bet that you would win the tournament to pay off his debt."

George shifted uncomfortably as Tempest stared at him, incredulous.

"He bet that on my neck that I would get out of this death trap _game_ in first place?" Tempest said furiously. "It's not as if I'm saying that I'm the most important person in the bloody world, but you'd think that he'd actually have some _respect_ for the fact that we contenders in his _stupid_ tournament are actually putting our heads on the chopping block! And I didn't even volunteer! Cedric, Fleur, Viktor… they all knew what they were in for when they put their names in the cup! And now there's some bankrupt fool betting on me!"

George looked like he wanted to interrupt, but Tempest continued without even pausing for breath.

"Now I understand why he'd been going around, hounding me about the tournament… does he think this is all a game?" Tempest paced in a circle, knowing she probably looked rather ridiculous, waving her arms around and yelling, but she'd never really cared what others thought of her… she didn't know _when_ she had begun caring… only that it was less complicated before.

"Tempest, calm down!" said Fred. "Yeah, Bagman's a prat alright, but that fact remains that if you win- well, we get our money, you survive and get 'eternal glory'… stuff and nonsense like that-"

"But I don't _want_ any of that!" Tempest exploded, "I mean, I want you two to get our money back- but can't anyone understand that I'd much rather have a normal year than one filled with… with… you know what?"

She didn't bother to wait for the boys answer.

"I feel like having breakfast. We can… talk about this later. Bye."

~Y._.Y~

"D'you suppose Moody found anything?" Tempest asked suddenly, making Ron choke on his scrambled eggs.

"Will you let it go yet Tempest?" Ron sighed, taking a long draught of Pumpkin juice. "We can go see him after History of Magic- he'll just have finished is DADA class… then we'll pop in and ask."

Hermione was watching Ron eat with a disapproving and yet some expression on her face, and Tempest automatically recalled Viktor's conversation with her the night before.

Would Hermione and Ron get together eventually? When Ron had grown up enough, matured, _would_ the two be together? And then if they did start going out, and it ended badly, would their friendship survive?

Tempest managed to cram the last half of her piece of toast into her mouth, earning her very own disapproving stare from Hermione, and a: "Tempest, you're just as bad as Ron!"

Tempest rolled her eyes. In Hermione's book, that was the worst comparison for eating habits there was.

…and then again, Tempest didn't even want to _consider_ the possibility of what their lives would be like together. Right now, she had other things to worry about.

The three set off for History of Magic, where Tempest sketched the Whomping Willow on a spare piece of parchment, Hermione studiously took notes and pretended not to be willing for the lesson to end just as much as Tempest, and Ron decided to take a nap on his desk.

Tempest had never known for time to pass so slowly, and she swore, that if Time was a person, she would be personally filing a petition for him to be fired.

Finally, the lesson ended, and Tempest had to physically shake the haze that had descended upon her mind out, before joining the mad rush for the door.

They hurried through the corridors until they reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, to see Professor Moody leaving it.

He looked just as exhausted as Tempest felt (having stayed up till well past two in the morning talking to him, and then waking up early that morning). His normal eye was drooping, making his face even more unattractive, uneven, lopsided, and altogether a mess.

"Professor?" Tempest called over the heads of the group of Hufflepuffs in the corridor.

"Hello, Potter," Moody growled in reply, his magical eye following a couple of passing first years, who sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Moody's head and watched them around the corner before he spoke again.

"Come in here. Your friends too."

Tempest followed with Ron and Hermione as Moody stepped back to let them into his empty classroom. He limped in after them, then closed the door.

Blunt as always, Tempest began instantly. "Did you find him? Mr Crouch?"

Moody grunted in acknowledgment. "No."

He moved over to his desk, sat down, stretched out his wooden leg with a slight groan, and pulled out his hip flask.

"Did Dumbledore check the school wards?" Hermione asked, "The ones that prevent people from Apparating or disaparating in school grounds?"

"Yeah," Moody growled, "he did, and still we found nothing."

"There are other ways he could have disappeared though, aren't there Professor?" Hermione asked eagerly, "I mean, if you rule out disaparating, and the existence of a third person-"

Moody fixed his mismatched eyes on Hermione. "I repeat, you two would make mighty fine Auror's. Mind works the right way- "

"Well what if there was a third party?" Ron broke in, eager to be called out as a possible future Auror. "Who d'you suppose would want to attack Tempest and Krum, but leave them unharmed then drag off Mr Crouch?"

Moody shrugged, his scarred face creasing into even more lines. "Can't rule out kidnap, but the main point is that Potter is safe-" he fixed his magical eye on Tempest, and suddenly, with an odd chilling sensation, Tempest felt uneasy.

If Moody's eye could see through walls and so forth, wouldn't he be able to see into the Room of Requirement? And Sirius?

But then again- that room was special. Sometimes it was there… sometimes it wasn't… it wasn't even on the Marauder's Map, now that Tempest thought of it. Perhaps it was unplottable and undetectable to everyone excluding the user(s), after all, it changed shape, size, content… it really was the Come-and-Go room.

"-and Dumbledore has told me that you three fancy yourselves investigators, but there's nothing further that you three can do regarding Crouch. The Ministry has been notified, and they'll be looking for him now… You should keep your mind on the third task."

Tempest sighed, less than pleased. "Third Task. Right."

Moody almost smiled, a horrible sight on his disfigured face. "I heard you've had some experience in that area though, Miss Potter- first year, you had to get through a set of challenges to the Sorcerer's Stone?"

Tempest's own mouth twisted slightly. Moody made it sound like she had gone for a walk in the park to find an ice cream.

"Something like that," Ron said for Tempest. "Me and Hermione helped-"

"Well then help her practice for this one- and I'll expect her to do well and win," said Moody, and Tempest had to smile at his subtle praise of Ron.

"In the meantime… constant vigilance, Miss Potter. Constant vigilance."

He took another long draw from his hip flask, and his magical eye swivelled onto the window. The topmost sail of the Durmstrang ship was visible through it.

"Now, you three best be on your way, I need to talk to Dumbledore, and I suggest you three head off to your next class."

The three said their goodbyes, and then set off to Herbology.

Tempest spent the next few days in the Room of Requirement practicing with Sirius and either the twins, or Ron and Hermione.

She had learned a variety of spells, ranging from highly useful in a tussle with a Skrewt to make hair turn a violent shade of red (kindly donated by the twins), and various other hexes, jinxes, minor curses and charms all of which Tempest found rather overwhelming.

Sirius knew a large assortment of spells himself, and Tempest found the majority of his to be some of the most useful. There was the Stunning spell, which was the one that she had a rather unfriendly encounter with, the Confundus Charm, to negate most of the primary senses in the person cast upon, the Shield Charm, which blocked spells, and another variation that protected from physical attacks (Sirius had stressed the importance of it, even though Tempest was confident enough of her own physical strength. She wasn't very heavy or well built, but she knew she was wiry, and after living with the Dursleys, she knew how to hold her own in a fight now that she had the chance. {She rather enjoyed demonstrating to Sirius some of her punches.})

To suit their needs, the Room of Requirement, which previously had been a large room with a large bed, small kitchen and portioned off bathroom, (well furnished) had transformed itself into a wide hall with flat polished surfaces and practice dummies hanging from the ceiling for Tempest to practice the spells on.

There wasn't really anything to practice on for the spells like the Confundus Charm, and for that Tempest was left with no alternative but to practice on Ron or Hermione (Sirius became very occupied when it came time for volunteers).

Needless to say, neither were very keen, and Ron had spent a good half-hour the day before walking into the same wall after Tempest had removed her too-effective charm.

They had just departed from the Room of Requirement that day, with plans to return later on after their classes, then Tempest and Hermione had set off for Arithmancy, Tempest finally having asked Minnie to switch classes, bidding a farewell to Ron.

Professor Vector was a relatively tall woman with stern features, but warm brown eyes. She had readily welcomed Tempest into the Arithmancy class (which mainly consisted of Ravenclaws) and then set out to explain what the class had covered so far.

It was easier than Tempest had expected, and Hermione helped her catch up on what she hadn't learnt the past year.

Professor Vector was explaining the properties of the number 13 and the reason the Muggles considered it 'unlucky', when Tempest felt her eyes beginning to close.

She jerked herself fully awake roughly. She wasn't even tired- she shouldn't be at least, she had actually slept properly the night before, and the lesson was a good one…

Hermione beside her was listening to Professor Vector raptly, and Tempest tried to do the same, only it felt like tiredness was dragging at her- which was odd, because a minute ago, she had been wide awake… this wasn't normal…

Tempest glanced out of the window beside her, and opened it an inch more, hoping that the extra breeze in the already cool classroom would help.

It didn't in the least.

_Don't fall asleep!_ Tempest warned herself. It was only her second Arithmancy class, and she didn't want to made a bad impression… only she was too tired to care very much…

She was flying- no, she was riding on the back of an eagle owl, not sure exactly how she knew that, only that the ground was flying by beneath her, and she was heading for an old, ivy-covered house set high on a hillside. It would have been a large mansion in its better days, probably costing millions on the muggle market, only now it was an old and broken down wreck, probably only used by passing tramps…

They reached a dark and broken window in the upper story of the house and entered… now they were flying along a gloomy passageway, to a room at the very end… through the door they went, into a dark room whose windows were boarded up…

Tempest had left the owl now… she was watching now… for what she didn't know…

There was a chair with its back to her… two dark shapes on the floor beside, both stirring…

The light from the dim fireplace caught them, and Tempest if she could would have gasped.

One was a giant snake… truly enormous- as thick as a grown man at least, and the other was a man, a man. A short, balding man, a man with watery eyes and a pointed nose… he was wheezing and sobbing on the hearth rug…

He was a man whose life Tempest had saved, and now she was wondering if she should have done it… if she should have stood between him and Sirius at all…

"You are in luck, Wormtail," a cold, high-pitched voice said from the depths of the chair, and Tempest with whatever of her physical body was there, shuddered. It was the _voice_, it was the _name_… the name was a _nickname,_ it was an _affection_… the playful teasing kind, something to be _proud _of… something the Marauder's had shared- and Voldemort using it was just….

"-you are very fortunate indeed. Your blunder has not ruined everything. He is dead."

"My Lord!" gasped Peter Pettigrew, "My Lord, I am… I am so pleased… and so sorry…"

Tempest's mind-self clenched it's fists in both pity and disgust- both battling the other, and disgust winning out.

"Nagini," said the cold voice who Tempest knew to be Voldemort, "you are out of luck. I will not be feeding Wormtail to you, after all… but never mind, never mind… there is still dear Tempestas Potter…"

The snake hissed. Tempest could see its tongue fluttering.

"Now, Wormtail," said the cold voice, "perhaps one more little reminder why I will not tolerate another blunder from you …"

"My Lord … no … I beg you …"

The tip of a wand emerged from around the back of the chair. It was pointing at Wormtail.

"Crucio!" said the cold voice and Tempest tensed for what she knew would come-

Wormtail screamed, screamed as though every nerve in his body were on fire, and Tempest couldn't help but feel pity- only she was on fire too, and her scar seared with pain, and her senses shut down, just as they always had whenever she was about to receive a beating at the Dursley's, only if possible, this feeling was worse…

She couldn't have screamed if she had tried, she went rigid, and then she was falling… falling…

"Tempest! Tempest!"

Tempest's eyes flashed open, finding herself lying on the ground in the Arithmancy classroom, fists clenched at her sides and the class crowded around her.

Her scar was still burning, feeling like the left side of her face was peeling off and doused in acid. Hermione was kneeling next to her, looking terrified.

"Tempest!" she squeaked, "Are… are you alright? You… you just, sort of gasped, and then you went all… still, and you fell off your chair like you fainted!"

Tempest would have been horrified any other time, but her scar was still burning, and the entire class was in earshot…

"Are you quite alright, Miss Potter?" Professor Vector said, her eyebrows meeting in concern.

"Fine," Tempest managed, pushing herself up. "Headache I think… I might have, uh, passed out, I might also be catching a cold."

She must have looked awful enough that Professor Vector believed Tempest's terrible lie, and nodded. "Would you like to go to the hospital wing then?" she asked, "get a potion from Madame Pomfrey…"

"Yes," Tempest said rather relieved, the class looked rather worried and fearful, and she was only too well acquainted with what would undoubtedly come next… rumours… gossip… it was best she left quickly. "I think that might be best."

"See you later," Tempest said to Hermione as she passed, and then she exited the room, striding quickly in the opposite direction of the Hospital wing.

She had a choice of two people to go to. There was Sirius, who she knew would be worried for her- and then there was Dumbledore… and Tempest had to admit that Dumbledore would more likely be the more practical of the two. She had a good idea of how Sirius would react if she mentioned Peter… and he was unlikely to stay calm. So, Dumbledore then.

Tempest stalked through the corridors, replaying the horrible dream in her mind… it wasn't a dream, was it? It was just as vivid as the one that she had had in the summer holidays when she had fallen asleep outside in the garden… both had been horrible- and yet about the same thing…

Tempest reached the stone gargoyle, then realized her dilemma. She didn't know the password.

She could sent a Patronus up really, but for some reason she didn't want to. Ever since her Patronus had changed… it just felt different, like something personal, and she didn't want… no. She'd rather guess.

"Sherbet lemon," Tempest tried, recalling it was the password for Second year.

The statue didn't move.

"Alright," Tempest mused, "Sugar Quill? I like those- uh, Chocolate Frog? Or does he use muggle sweets? Um, I don't actually know that many… Gummy Bears? Er, Twix? Mars Bars? Oh, forget it.. Fizzing Whizbee? Blood Lollypops? -Yeah, that wouldn't have been… Jelly Slugs? Liquorice Wand? - oh if not Blood Lollypops, what about Cockroach Cluster?"

The gargoyle sprang to life and jumped aside. Tempest blinked.

"Really?" She said, "I was just kidding…"

She hurried through the gap, but as she passed, she could have sworn she saw the gargoyle winked at her. She stepped onto the foot of a spiral stone staircase, which moved slowly upwards as the doors closed behind her, taking her up to a polished oak door with a brass door knocker.

She could hear voices from inside the office, making her pause as she stepped off the moving staircase.

"Dumbledore, I'm afraid I don't see the connection, don't see it at all!" It was the voice of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. "Ludo says Berthas perfectly capable of getting herself lost. I agree we would have expected to have found her by now, but all the same, we've no evidence of foul play, Dumbledore, none at all. As for her disappearance being linked with Barty Crouch's!"

"And what do you thinks happened to Barty Crouch, Minister?" said Moody's growling voice.

"I see two possibilities, Alastor," said Fudge. "Either Crouch has finally cracked – more than likely, I'm sure you'll agree, given his personal history –lost his mind, and gone wandering off somewhere –"

Tempest scowled, if she wasn't eavesdropping, then she would badly have liked to explain the definition of 'personal history'.

"He wandered extremely quickly, if that is the case, Cornelius," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Or else – well …" Fudge sounded embarrassed. "Well, I'll reserve judgment until after I've seen the place where he was found, but you say it was just past the Beauxbatons carriage? Dumbledore, you know what that woman is?"

"I consider her to be a very able headmistress - and an excellent dancer," said Dumbledore quietly.

"Dumbledore, come!" said Fudge angrily. "Don't you think you might be prejudiced in her favor because of Hagrid? They don't all turn out harmless – if, indeed, you can call Hagrid harmless, with that monster fixation he's got -"

Tempest had actually reached for the door knocker, and was about to hammer on the door, just for the sake of defending Hagrid, when Dumbledore spoke again.

"I no more suspect Madame Maxime than Hagrid," said Dumbledore, just as calmly. "I think it possible that it is you who are prejudiced, Cornelius."

"Can we wrap up this discussion?" growled Moody.

"Yes, yes, let's go down to the grounds, then," said Fudge impatiently.

"No, it's not that," said Moody, "it's just that Miss Potter wants a word with you, Dumbledore. She's just outside the door."

~Y._.Y~

The door to the office swung open.

"Hello, Miss Potter," said Moody. "Come in, then."

Tempest walked inside awkwardly. Now she was there, she felt rather stupid. She had gone running to Dumbledore because of a _dream_ of all things… and well, yes the dream had been so _real_ and odd… but weren't dreams like that?

Dumbledore's office was the same as it was the last time Tempest had been in it, a circular room, lined with pictures of previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts, all of whom were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling gently.

Cornelius Fudge was standing beside Dumbledore's desk, wearing his usual pinstriped cloak and holding his lime-green bowler hat.

"Tempest!" said Fudge jovially, moving forwards. "How are you?"

"Great." Tempest said, trying to inject actual emotion into the words.

"We were just talking about the night when Mr. Crouch turned up on the grounds," said Fudge. "You were there weren't you?"

"Yes," said Tempest. Then, feeling it was pointless to pretend that she hadn't overheard what they had been saying, she added, "I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere, though, and she'd have a job hiding… she's taller than most trees isn't she?"

Dumbledore smiled at Tempest behind Fudge's back, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, well," said Fudge, looking embarrassed, "we're about to go for a short walk on the grounds, Tempest, if you'll excuse us … perhaps if you just go back to your class -"

"I wanted to talk to you, Professor," Tempest said hurriedly, glancing at Dumbledore, who gave her a swift, searching look.

"You may wait here, Tempest," he said. "Our examination of the grounds will not take long."

They trooped out in silence past him and closed the door. After a minute or so, Tempest heard the clunks of Moody's wooden leg growing fainter in the corridor below.

She looked around, her eyes falling on Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, who was standing on his golden perch beside the door. He was the size of a swan, with magnificent scarlet-and-gold plumage.

"Hello, Fawkes," Tempest said.

The bird blinked at Tempest, and there was a friendly twinkle in his warm gold eyes that reminded Tempest rather of Dumbledore's own eyes.

With nothing else to do for the time being, Tempest sat down in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. For several minutes, Tempest just gazed around the room, watching Fawkes's tail feathers catch fire, the portraits of the past headmasters and headmistresses snooze in their frames, and thinking about his dream…

Her scar had stopped hurting now, and she felt much calmer- even wondering whether she had been rather foolish for coming to Dumbledore just because of a bad dream and her scar hurting.

The last time it had hurt like that was in the summer- and then before that, when she was near Voldemort.. but that could mean anything…

It was a mark of how much of a horrible liar Tempest was that she couldn't even convince herself in the slightest.

Trying to distract herself, Tempest let her attention wander. There was the patched and ragged Sorting Hat standing on a shelf. A glass case next to it held a magnificent silver sword with large rubies set into the hilt, which Tempest recognized as the one she herself had pulled out of the Sorting Hat in her second year. Dumbledore had said that it had once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, founder of Gryffindor House.

Tempest was staring at it, remembering how it had come from the Sorting hat just when she had needed it the most, when she noted a silvery reflection, dancing and shimmering on the glass case.

Tempest turned around in her seat to see where it came from and saw a sliver of silver-white light shining brightly from inside of a black cabinet behind her, whose door hadn't been closed properly.

Curious, Tempest got up and walked across the office and pulled open the cabinet door.

There was a shallow stone basin in there, with odd carvings around the edge: runes and symbols that Tempest couldn't decipher, making her wish that she had taken Ancient Runes as a subject.

The silvery light was coming from the basin's contents, which were like nothing Tempest had ever seen before. The substance didn't look like either liquid or gas, it was a bright, whitish silver, and it was moving ceaselessly: the surface of it became ruffled like water beneath wind, and then separated and swirled smoothly like clouds. It looked like light made liquid, or like wind made solid… it was beautiful.

Tempest wanted badly to touch it, almost as if it was a compulsion, to find out what it felt like, but almost four years' experience of the magical world told her that sticking her hand into a bowl full of some unknown substance-however attractive- was a very stupid thing to do.

She therefore put her hand in anyway.

The instant her fingers touched the liquid her first sensation was of blinding cold, and then suddenly Dumbledore's office gave a lurch- or was it just her?- and then she was jerked forwards as though someone had grabbed her arm and she was thrown headfirst into the basin, but her head did not collide with the stone bottom. She was falling through something icy cold and dark… it was like being sucked into a black whirlpool-

And suddenly, with a jolt, Tempest found herself sitting on a bench at the end of a room, a bench raised high above the other rows of benches lining the room… she was in a room that looked to be underground, dimly lit with no windows, only torches in brackets like the ones that illuminated the walls of Hogwarts. There rows of other witches and wizards seated on similar benches to hers, but no one seemed perturbed by her sudden appearance amongst them.

There was an empty chair in the middle of the room, and for some reason it seemed of particular importance. Some of the witches and wizards were whispering amongst their selves, glancing at a door by the side of the room, then at the chair.

There was something ominous about the chair that made Tempest shiver self-consciously. There were chains encircling the arms of it, as though its occupants were usually tied to it.

Where was she? Only moments ago she had been in Dumbledore's office.. and now… this wasn't another dream was it? She had touched the contents of the basin and been sucked in-

She looked up, almost expecting to see the circular rim of the basin far above her, but instead all she saw was dark solid stone- the ceiling of the room she was in.

Tempest looked around again. Odd. It was as if she wasn't even there for all the other people in the room noticed. She turned to the wizard next to her on the bench and an automatic cry of surprise that echoed around the hushed room.

There was an echoing c_lank_ that reverberated around the room, and everyone fell silent, Tempest included, even though her attention remained on Dumbledore.

There was no further noise, but all of the wizards and witches attention was now directed towards the door to the side of the room, some of their faces apprehensive.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Tempest said in a constricted voice, still sounding awfully loud to her own ears. "I'm sorry- I was in your office- I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to- and then I ended up here- where are we?"

Dumbledore didn't even acknowledge her, it was as if Tempest was as insubstantial as air. He ignored Tempest completely just like every other wizard and witch on the benches.

Tempest had been in a situation like this before… Once before, Tempest had found herself where nobody could see or hear her… just like this. That time, she had fallen through a page into an enchanted diary, right into Tom Riddle's memory… and perhaps that was what had just happened now- only it wasn't Riddle's –it was Dumbledore's.

And in any case, Dumbledore had never ignored her like the one here was doing now. This had to be a memory in the past… it couldn't have been so long ago though, the Dumbledore sitting beside her was just as silver-haired as the present-day Dumbledore.

But what was this place? What were all these wizards and witches waiting for? Tempest looked around more carefully. The room was more of a dungeon than a room, she thought. There was a bleak and forbidding air about the place; there were no pictures on the walls, no decorations at all; just these serried rows of benches, rising in levels all around the room, all positioned so that they had a clear view of that chair with the chains on its arms.

Before Tempest could reach any conclusions about the place in which they were, she heard footsteps. The door all the people in the room were staring at opened and three people entered – or at least one man, flanked by two dementors.

Tempest's insides went cold and she gripped the sides of the bench with her in-corporeal hands. The dementors – tall, hooded creatures whose faces were concealed – were gliding slowly toward the chair in the centre of the room, each grasping one of the man's arms with their dead and rotten-looking hands. The man between them looked as though he was about to faint, and Tempest couldn't blame him … she knew the dementors could not touch her inside a memory, but she remembered their power only too well. The watching crowd recoiled slightly as the dementors placed the man in the chained chair and glided back out of the room. The door swung shut behind them.

As Tempest redirected her attention to the man who was now sitting in the chair, and saw it was Karkaroff.

Tempest didn't bother to hide her shock- it wasn't as if anyone could see her- and gasped. Unlike Dumbledore, Karkaroff looked much younger; his hair and goatee were fully black. Instead of his sleek furs, he was dressed in thin and ragged robes, like the ones Sirius had worn from Azkaban.

Karkaroff was shaking, and even as Tempest watched, the chains on the arms of the chair suddenly glowed gold and snaked their way up Karkaroff's arms, binding him there.

"Igor Karkaroff," said a curt voice to Tempest's left. Tempest looked around and saw Mr Crouch standing up in the middle of the bench beside her. Crouch's hair was dark, his hair much less lined, he looked fit and alert and so much more younger than the Mr Crouch she herself knew.

"You have been brought from Azkaban to present evidence to the Ministry of Magic. You have given us to understand that you have important information for us."

Karkaroff straightened himself as best he could, tightly bound to the chair.

"I have, sir," he said, and although Tempest could hear the rather obvious tremble in his voice, she could still identify the familiar unctuous note in it. "I wish to be of use to the Ministry. I wish to help. I- I know that the Ministry is trying to- to round up the last of the Dark Lords supporters. I am eager to assist in any way I can.."

There was a murmur around the benches. Some of the wizards and witches were surveying Karkaroff with interest, others with pronounced mistrust. Then Tempest heard, quite distinctly, from Dumbledore's other side, a familiar, growling voice saying, "Filth."

Tempest leaned forward so that she could see past Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody was sitting there – except that there was a very noticeable difference in his appearance. He did not have his magical eye, but two normal ones.

Rather distractedly, Tempest realized just how odd it was to see Moody with two ordinary eyes and the absence of the constant whizzing around of his magical eye.

"Crouch is going to let him out," Moody breathed quietly to Dumbledore. "He's done a deal with him. Took me six months to track him down, and Crouch is going to let him go if he's got enough new names. Let's hear his information, I say, and throw him straight back to the dementors."

Tempest didn't even feel a twinge of guilt that she agreed with Moody. After all, _Karkaroff_ got a trail for being a death eater, and was being let off with a few names whereas Sirius hadn't even had the chance to set foot into the courtroom before he had been dragged off to Azkaban.

Dumbledore made a small noise of dissent through his long crooked nose.

"Ah, I was forgetting you don't like the dementors, do you Albus?" said Moody with a sardonic smile.

Tempest snorted. She didn't like them either, but still…

"No," said Dumbledore calmly, "I'm afraid I don't. I have long felt the Ministry is wrong to ally itself with such creatures."

"But for filth like this…" Moody said softly.

"You say you have names for us, Karkaroff," said Mr Crouch. "Let us hear them, please."

"You must understand," said Karkaroff hurriedly, "that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named operated always in the greatest secrecy… he preferred that we- I mean to say, his supporters- and I regret now, very deeply, that I ever counted myself among them-"

"Get on with it!" Tempest snapped, knowing he could not hear, but wanting to say the words regardless.

"Get on with it," Moody sneered only a second after Tempest, making her smile darkly.

"-we never knew the names of every one of our fellows- He alone knew exactly who we all were-"

"Which was a wise move, wasn't it, as it prevented someone like you, Karkaroff, form turning all of them in," muttered Moody, and Tempest felt a newfound rush of respect for the grizzled Auror.

"Yet you say you have some names for us?" said Mr Crouch.

"I- I do," said Karkaroff breathlessly. "And these were important supporters, mark you. People I saw with my own eyes doing his bidding."

"Because you were _there_ doing his bidding with them- willingly!" Tempest muttered, wishing half-heartedly that she was actually _there_ to do _something_…

"-I give this information as I sign I fully and totally renounce him, and am filled with a remorse so deep I can barely-"

"These names are?" said Mr Crouch sharply.

Karkaroff drew a deep breath. "There was Antonin Dolohov," he said, making Tempest's fists clench. Sirius had told her about how he was one of the death eaters that had killed Molly's brothers.

"I- I saw him torture countless Muggles and- and non-supporters of the Dark Lord."

"And helped him do it," murmured Moody.

"We have already apprehended Dolohov," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after yourself."

"Indeed?" said Karkaroff, his eyes widening. "I – I am delighted to hear it!"

But he didn't look it. Tempest could tell that this news had come as a real blow to him. One of his names was worthless.

"Any others?" said Crouch coldly.

"Why, yes … there was Rosier," said Karkaroff hurriedly. "Evan Rosier."

"Rosier is dead," said Crouch. "He was caught shortly after you were too. He preferred to fight rather than come quietly and was killed in the struggle."

"Took a bit of me with him, though," whispered Moody to Harry's right. Tempest looked around at him once more, and saw him indicating the large chunk out of his nose to Dumbledore.

"No – no more than Rosier deserved!" said Karkaroff, a real note of panic in his voice now.

Tempest could see that he was starting to worry that none of his information would be of any use to the Ministry. Karkaroff's eyes darted toward the door in the corner, behind which the dementors undoubtedly still stood, waiting.

"Any more?" said Crouch.

"Yes!" said Karkaroff. "There was Travers – he helped murder the McKinnons! Mulciber - he specialized in the Imperius Curse, forced countless people to do horrific things! Rookwood, who was a spy, and passed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named useful information from inside the Ministry itself!"

Tempest could tell that, this time, Karkaroff had struck gold. The watching crowd was all murmuring together.

"Rookwood?" said Mr. Crouch, nodding to a witch sitting in front of him, who began scribbling upon her piece of parchment. "Augustus Rookwood of the Department of Mysteries?"

"The very same," said Karkaroff eagerly. "I believe he used a network of well-placed wizards, both inside the Ministry and out, to collect information –"

"But Travers and Mulciber we have," said Mr. Crouch. "Very well, Karkaroff, if that is all, you will be returned to Azkaban while we decide –"

"Not yet!" cried Karkaroff, looking quite desperate, leaning forwards and straining against the chains which glowed brighter as he struggled. "Wait, I have more!"

Tempest could see him sweating in the torchlight, his white skin contrasting strongly with the black of his hair and beard.

"Snape!" he shouted. "Severus Snape!"

Tempest jerked, and fell sideways off the bench, learning quickly that falling backwards onto a stone floor in a memory hurt just as much as doing so in reality.

Getting up and rubbing at her head, Tempest stared at Karkaroff. _Snape_ was a death eater?

To her amazement, Tempest was more surprised at the fact that she didn't really believe that Snape was a death eater, than the fact that Karkaroff had just said that he was.

"Snape has been cleared by this council," said Crouch disdainfully. "He has been vouched for by Albus Dumbledore."

"No!" shouted Karkaroff, straining at the chains that bound him to the chair. "I assure you! Severus Snape is a Death Eater!"

Dumbledore had gotten to his feet.

"I have given evidence already on this matter," he said calmly. "Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater. However, he rejoined our side before Lord Voldemort's downfall and turned spy for us, at great personal risk. He is now no more a Death Eater than I am."

Tempest's eyebrows raised in scepticism. She knew she should trust Dumbledore, but still… glancing at Moody, she saw her expression mirrored on his face.

"Very well, Karkaroff," Crouch said coldly, "you have been of assistance. I shall review your case. You will return to Azkaban in the meantime …"

Mr. Crouch's voice faded. Tempest looked around; the dungeon was dissolving as though it were made of smoke; everything was fading; she could see only his own body – all else was swirling darkness …

And then, the dungeon returned. Tempest was sitting in a different seat, still on the highest bench, but now to the left side of Mr. Crouch. The atmosphere seemed quite different: almost relaxed, cheerful even.

The witches and wizards all around the walls were talking to one another, almost as though they were at some sort of sporting event. Tempest noticed a witch halfway up the rows of benches opposite.

She had short blonde hair, was wearing magenta robes, and was sucking the end of an acid-green quill. It was, unmistakably, a younger Rita Skeeter.

Tempest turned away and looked around. Dumbledore was sitting beside her again, wearing different robes. Mr Crouch looked more tired now, more like his present self, fiercer, gaunter… more tired…

Tempest had a feeling she was about to discover the turning point in Crouch's life from a power man, nominated for Minister of Magic to a shadow of the man he used to be…

It was a different day, a different memory… another trial.

The door opposite them opened, and Ludo Bagman walked into the room.

This was not, however, a Ludo Bagman gone to seed, but a Ludo Bagman who was clearly at the height of his Quidditch-playing fitness. His nose wasn't broken now; he was tall and lean and muscular, and to Tempest's inner humiliation, she had to admit that he was actually very handsome. Bagman looked nervous as he sat down in the chained chair, but it did not bind him there as it had bound Karkaroff, and Bagman, perhaps taking heart from this, glanced around at the watching crowd, waved at a couple of them, and managed a small smile.

There were no dementors escorting him, which led Tempest to believe he wasn't there for the same sort of trial that Karkaroff had been held for.

"Ludo Bagman, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters," said Mr. Crouch. "We have heard the evidence against you, and are about to reach our verdict. Do you have anything to add to your testimony before we pronounce judgment?"

Tempest gapped. Ludo Bagman, a Death Eater? The idea was one of the most ridiculous she had ever heard.

"Only," said Bagman, smiling awkwardly, "well – I know I've been a bit of an idiot –"

One or two wizards and witches in the surrounding seats smiled indulgently. Mr. Crouch did not appear to share their feelings. He was staring down at Ludo Bagman with an expression of the utmost severity and dislike.

"You never spoke a truer word, boy," someone muttered dryly to Dumbledore behind Tempest. She looked around and saw Moody sitting there again. "If I didn't know he'd always been dim, I'd have said some of those Bludgers had permanently affected his brain …"

"Well, he's been hit in the face with bludgers all his life," snorted Tempest.

"Ludovic Bagman, you were caught passing information to Lord Voldemort's supporters," said Mr. Crouch. "For this, I suggest a term of imprisonment in Azkaban lasting no less than –"

But there was an angry outcry from the surrounding benches. Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Mr. Crouch.

"But I've told you, I had no idea!" Bagman called earnestly over the crowd's babble, his round blue eyes widening. "None at all! Old Rookwood was a friend of my dad's … never crossed my mind he was in with You-Know-Who! I thought I was collecting information for our side! And Rookwood kept talking about getting me a job in the Ministry later on … once my Quidditch days are over, you know … I mean, I can't keep getting hit by Bludgers for the rest of my life, can I?"

There were titters from the crowd.

"It will be put to the vote," said Mr. Crouch coldly. He turned to the right-hand side of the dungeon. "The jury will please raise their hands … those in favor of imprisonment …"

Tempest looked toward the right-hand side of the dungeon. Not one person raised their hand. Many of the witches and wizards around the walls began to clap. One of the witches on the jury stood up.

"Yes?" barked Crouch.

"We'd just like to congratulate Mr. Bagman on his splendid performance for England in the Quidditch match against Turkey last Saturday," the witch said breathlessly.

Tempest laughed out loud at that.

Mr Crouch looked furious.

The dungeon was ringing with applause now. Bagman got to his feet and bowed, beaming.

"Despicable," Mr. Crouch spat at Dumbledore, sitting down as Bagman walked out of the dungeon. "Rookwood get him a job indeed … The day Ludo Bagman joins us will be a sad day indeed for the Ministry …"

And the dungeon dissolved again. When it had returned, Tempest looked around. She and Dumbledore were still sitting beside Mr. Crouch, but the atmosphere could not have been more different. There was total silence, broken only by the dry sobs of a frail, wispy-looking witch in the seat next to Mr. Crouch. She was clutching a handkerchief to her mouth with trembling hands.

Tempest looked up at Crouch and saw that he looked gaunter and greyer than ever before. A nerve was twitching in his temple.

She had a horrible feeling about the trial that was about to take place.

"Bring them in," he said, and his voice echoed through the silent dungeon.

The door in the corner opened yet again. Six dementors entered this time, flanking a group of four people. Tempest saw the people in the crowd turn to look up at Mr. Crouch. A few of them whispered to one another.

The dementors placed each of the four people in the four chairs with chained arms that now stood on the dungeon floor. There was a thickset man who stared blankly up at Crouch; a thinner and more nervous-looking man, whose eyes were darting around the crowd; a woman with thick, shining dark hair and heavily hooded eyes, who was sitting in the chained chair as though it were a throne; and a boy in his late teens, who looked nothing short of petrified. He was shivering, his straw-coloured hair all over his face, his freckled skin milk-white. The wispy little witch beside Crouch began to rock backward and forward in her seat whimpering into her handkerchief.

Tempest did not recognize any of them, except for the woman. The hair, the way she sat, and the haughty features of her face… she looked a lot like her sister, and there was the faint resemblance to Sirius… it was Bellatrix Lestrange, a witch Tempest had read about several times in old copies of the Daily Prophet. It hadn't really said exactly what she had done, only that she had been Voldemort's right-hand woman, and her name was feared almost as much as Voldemort's… the only reason Tempest had even bothered to search her up in the Hogwarts library was because of her relation to Sirius, and everything Tempest had discovered about the witch was that she embodied everything that Sirius hated about his family.

It seemed now that Tempest was about to discover what exactly she was about to be sent to Azkaban for.

Crouch stood up. He looked down upon the four in front of him, and there was pure hatred in his face.

"You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law," he said clearly, "so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous -"

"Father," said the boy with the straw-coloured hair. "Father … please …"

Tempest stared at the boy. _This_ was Crouch's son? The pale-faced boy? He only looked sixteen- seventeen at oldest… only two, three years older than herself…

"- that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court," said Crouch, speaking more loudly, drowning out his son's voice.

"We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror – Frank Longbottom – and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named -"

"Father, I didn't!" shrieked the boy in chains below. "I didn't, I swear it. Father, don't send me back to the dementors -"

Tempest sat in shock.

This was _wrong_… she felt like she was intruding in on something she shouldn't see… Frank _Longbottom_? Neville's father?

"You are further accused," bellowed Mr. Crouch, "of using the Cruciatus Curse on Frank Long bottom's wife, when he would not give you information. You planned to restore He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to power, and to resume the lives of violence you presumably led while he was strong. I now ask the jury -"

Tempest felt like she was about to throw up. In all of four years she had never even asked Neville about his parents- not once… he was her friend and yet she had never even bothered to…

"Mother!" screamed the boy below, and the wispy little witch beside Crouch began to sob, rocking backward and forward. "Mother, stop him. Mother, I didn't do it, it wasn't me!"

"I now ask the jury," shouted Mr. Crouch, "to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these crimes deserve a life sentence in Azkaban!"

In unison, the witches and wizards along the right-hand side of the dungeon raised their hands. The crowd around the walls began to clap as it had for Bagman, their faces full of savage triumph. The boy began to scream. "No! Mother, no! I didn't do it, I didn't do it, I didn't know! Don't send me there, don't let him!"

Tempest was still stiff with shock… Neville's parents… but Crouch… it was his _son_, his _only_ son… and his wife was just _sitting_ there…

The dementors were gliding back into the room. The boys' three companions rose quietly from their seats, Bellatrix looked up at Crouch and called, "The Dark Lord will rise again, Crouch! Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait! He will rise again and will come for us, he will reward us beyond any of his other supporters! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!"

Tempest was still staring at the boy through, he was trying to fight off the dementors, even though Tempest could see their cold, draining power starting to affect him. The crowd was jeering, some of them on their feet, as the woman swept out of the dungeon, and the boy continued to struggle.

"I'm your son!" he screamed up at Crouch. "I'm your son!"

Tempest swallowed convulsively, her nails biting into the palms of her hands.

"You are no son of mine!" bellowed Mr. Crouch, his eyes bulging suddenly. "I have no son!"

The wispy witch beside him gave a great gasp and slumped in her seat. She had fainted. Crouch appeared not to have noticed.

"Take them away!" Crouch roared at the dementors, spit flying from his mouth. "Take them away, and may they rot there!"

"Father! Father, I wasn't involved! No! No! Father, please!"

"I think Tempest, it is time to return to my office," said a quiet voice.

Tempest whirled around and came face to face with… Dumbledore.

There was an Albus Dumbledore seated on her right side, watching Crouch's son being dragged away by the dementors- and there was an Albus Dumbledore on her left, looking steadily at her.

"Come," said Dumbledore- the one who was looking at her, and he grasped Tempest's forearm. Tempest felt herself rising up into the air, the dungeon dissolving around her, and for a moment, everything went black… and then it felt like she had been flipped backwards, landing flat on her feet and stumbling backwards in Dumbledore's office. The stone basin was shimmering in the cabinet in front of her, and Dumbledore was standing beside her.

Tempest swallowed. She knew she should explain, only she felt sick… what she had just seen…

Dumbledore seemed to realize what was about to happen a moment before it did, as he waved his wand and a bucket appeared out of thin air, just as Tempest threw up.

Tempest dragged the sleeve of her robes across her mouth, grimacing in disgust as Dumbledore waved his wand again, the bucket vanishing.

"Are you alright, Tempest?" Dumbledore asked, his voice neutral, which Tempest appreciated.

"Dreadful," Tempest said hoarsely. "I _am_ sorry- I know I shouldn't have been prying- "

"It's quite understandable," said Dumbledore.

He lifted the basin, carried it over to his desk, placed it upon the polished top, and sat down in the chair behind it. He motioned for Tempest to sit down opposite him.

Tempest did so, still feeling both sick, dizzy, and embarrassed at the fact that she had just thrown up in front of Dumbledore.

The silvery contents of the basin were swirling and rippling around, and Tempest stared at it with barely concealed revulsion.

"What _is_ that?" she asked.

"This? It is called a Pensieve," said Dumbledore. "I sometimes find, and I am sure you know the feeling, that I simply have too many thoughts and memories crammed into my mind."

Tempest shrugged. Sometimes… actually many times during recent events… but she would never want to re-visit them like she just had… to want to actually experience that _again_…

"At these times," said Dumbledore, indicating the stone basin, "I use the Pensieve. One simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."

"I wouldn't," Tempest said, shaking her head, eyes fixed on the pensieve. "If those are your thoughts… I wouldn't want to visit that memory again- not for whatever links that could be found…"

She looked up to see Dumbledore's eyes fixed on her own.

"Why not?" he asked.

_Why not?_

Tempest stared at Dumbledore for a moment. "Mr Crouch's son- he just… he just abandoned him-"

Dumbledore stared steadily at her, making her shift uncomfortably. "After the crime that his son was committed of, his judgement was not unsound."

Tempest gapped at him. "But- but they were _family_!"

"Would you have done any differently if it was the Dursley's on trial?"

Tempest mouthed for a moment, then finally overcoming her momentary speechlessness began again. "That.. that's different."

"And I am sure that that is what Barty was thinking when the situation was thrown to him." Dumbledore paused for a moment while he studied her. "I assume you made the connection that he was involved with the torture of your friend Neville's parents?"

Tempest nodded, her mouth twisting, then shook her head vehemently. "No but- it's not- no but, I mean that, but he was his _son_- I mean, aren't… they're _family_- whatever Mr Crouch's son did or didn't do- not saying whether its right or wrong, but Mr Crouch just as good as said that his son was dead to him and gave him a death sentence!"

There was so much more Tempest wanted to say- she knew the crime they had been committed of was horrible… vile, but Tempest couldn't explain it. Just to see someone voluntarily deny the existence of their own son- and just… betray them like that…

Tempest had never been part of a family, and now as part of the Marauders, she couldn't even begin to imagine tearing it apart like that, in such a way… it was just simply _wrong_…

Dumbledore was silent for a moment, letting Tempest trail off into silence, then he spoke. "Your friend Neville has led a life much like your own- perhaps not as desolate in the beginning- but he too grew up without his parents, raised by his grandmother who while she cared for him, had high expectations, had little sympathy when he did not fulfil them, and was none too free with affection. His parents were tortured for information about Voldemort's whereabouts after he lost his powers. Frank Longbottom was an Auror like Professor Moody, and was attacked because of his supposed knowledge."

"So are they dead? Neville's parents?" Tempest asked dully.

"No," Dumbledore's voice was bitter now, a sound Tempest had never heard in the Headmaster's voice, his eyes were chips of ice. "They are insane. They are both in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I believe Neville visits them, with his grandmother, during the holidays. They do not recognize him."

Tempest merely sat, unable to drag forwards any more feelings of horror, pity or shock. She felt numb. It was one thing to have her parents dead, but for Neville to have his parents alive, to have them alive and to be able to see them, and yet for them not to understand who he was and not even acknowledge their own son… Tempest imagined it like a rusty sword stabbing him straight through the chest, repeatedly.

She had never bothered to ask him, never bothered to wonder why he lived with his grandmother…

"So," Dumbledore said quietly, breaking the tense silence that had fallen, "Tempest. Before you got lost in my thoughts, you said that there was something you wished to tell me."

Tempest blinked and sighed, returning to reality with a jolt. "Yes, there was- I was in Arithmancy, and I sort of, uh, I fell asleep- I don't know exactly how it happened, I mean- I didn't mean to-"

"Quite understandable," Dumbledore said, instead of reprimanding her. "Continue."

Tempest hesitated. "And, well, I had a dream. A dream about Voldemort. He was torturing Peter- Peter Pettigrew… and I think Voldemort received news from someone, and he told Peter that he was in luck, and that his blunder had been repaired, and someone was dead… There was a huge snake there too- he called it Nagini, and he said that he wouldn't feed Peter to the snake, he'd be feeding me to it, instead… and then he Cucio'd Peter- and that's when my scar began to burn… and I made out that I'd fainted in class."

Dumbledore studied Tempest for several long seconds until Tempest began to feel uncomfortable.

"And that's it, by the way."

"I see," said Dumbledore quietly. "I see. Now, has your scar hurt at any other time this year, excepting the time it woke you up over the summer?"

"No, I – how did you know it woke me up over the summer?" asked Tempest, slightly shocked.

"Minerva informed me of it when you told her, and you are not Sirius's only correspondent." Said Dumbledore. "I've been in contact with the later ever since he left Hogwarts last year. It was I who suggested the mountainside cave as the safest place for him to stay- although, I believe that is no longer the case…"

Tempest met Dumbledore's gaze, and his blue eyes seemed to reflect all of Tempest's secrets. Did he know that Tempest had smuggled Sirius into the castle and hidden him in the Room of Requirement under his very nose?

Dumbledore however, did not seem to dwell on it. He got up and began walking up and down behind his desk. Every now and then, he placed his wand tip to his temple, and withdrew shining silver strands of the same substance in the pensive, and added it inside. Tempest could only assume that the odd substance was Dumbledore's thoughts. The thoughts inside began to swirl so fast that Tempest couldn't make out anything clearly: It was merely a blur of colour.

"Professor?" Tempest said eventually after a couple of minutes of pacing.

"My apologies," he said quietly, he sat back down at his desk.

"Would- do you suppose- do you know why I'm having these dreams?"

Dumbledore looked very intently at Tempest for a moment, and then said, "I have a theory, no more than that… It is my belief that your scar is related to your dreams, and you are connected through it… therefore it burns and you may catch a glimpse of his actions through dreams whenever you are near Voldemort, or when he is feeling a particularly strong emotion."

Tempest grimaced, she didn't want to be connected to Voldemort in any way… "But why though?"

"Because you and he are connected by the curse that failed," said Dumbledore. "That is no ordinary scar."

"So it really happened? The dream?" Tempest said flatly.

"It is possible," said Dumbledore. "I would say-probable. Tempest… did you see Voldemort?"

"No. Just the back of his chair- although, wouldn't there have been nothing to see? He hasn't got a body… unless he's possessing someone- that'd explain how he could hold his wand…"

"True… true…"

Neither Dumbledore nor Tempest spoke for a while. Dumbledore was gazing across the room, and, every now and then, placing his wand tip to his temple and adding another shining silver thought to the seething mass within the Pensieve.

"Professor," Tempest said at last, "do you think he's getting stronger?"

"Voldemort?" said Dumbledore, looking at Tempest over the Pensieve. It was the characteristic, piercing look Dumbledore had given her on other occasions, and always made Tempest feel as though Dumbledore were seeing right through her in a way that even Moody's magical eye could not.

"Once again Tempest, I can only give you my suspicions." Dumbledore sighed again, and he looked older, and wearier, than ever. "The years of Voldemort's ascent to power," he said, "were marked with disappearances. Bertha Jorkins has vanished without a trace in the place where Voldemort was certainly known to be last. Mr. Crouch too has disappeared … within these very grounds. And there was a third disappearance, one which the Ministry, I regret to say, do not consider of any importance, for it concerns a Muggle. His name was Frank Bryce, he lived in the village where Voldemort's father grew up, and he has not been seen since last August. You see, I read the Muggle newspapers, unlike most of my Ministry friends."

Dumbledore looked very seriously at Tempest. "These disappearances seem to me to be linked. The Ministry disagrees – as you may have heard, while waiting outside my office."

Tempest nodded. Silence fell between them again, Dumbledore extracting thoughts every now and then. Tempest felt as though he ought to go, but his curiosity held him in his chair.

"Mr Bagman-" she began, "Was he really innocent?"

"To the extent of my knowledge, he has not been accused of further Dark activity since."

"Oh, right, and uh," Tempest shifted, her eyes on the Pensive, "Professor Snape-"

"And neither has Professor Snape."

Tempest met Dumbledore's light blue eyes, and her incapability to keep her mouth shut meant that she blurted out the question before she could reign it in.

"Why do you trust him?"

Tempest winced once the words had come out, realizing just how rude and demanding they sounded, however Dumbledore didn't seem angry.

He merely held Tempest's gaze for a long moment, and for a second, Tempest actually thought that he was about to reply, but then something in Dumbledore's face seemed to change, and he merely said, "That, Tempest, is a matter between Professor Snape and myself."

Tempest knew her audience with Dumbledore was over. He didn't seem angry, irritated or eager for the conversation to end, but there was an edge to his tone that told Tempest it was time to go. She stood, and so did Dumbledore.

"Tempest," Dumbledore called Tempest back as she turned to go.

"Yes Professor?"

"Please do not mention Neville's parents to anybody else. It is his right to let people know, when he is ready."

Tempest nodded, and was once again facing the door when Dumbledore spoke.

"And Tempest-"

"Yes?"

"If you are keeping a dog at school, Tempest, I suggest you keep him out of sight."

Tempest blinked at the man before she realized what he was saying.

"Wait- but how…. Of course sir," she replied, a smile tugging at her lips, "It'll be like Padfoot isn't even there."

"-and one last thing, Tempest-"

"_Yes?_" laughed Tempest, turning around fully.

"It had escaped my mind," Dumbledore said, rummaging around in one of the drawers of his desk, before removing a long thin piece of wood.

He held it out to Tempest. "I took it from the Azkaban guards thirteen years ago when Sirius was arrested. I imagine he will be pleased to have it back."

It was Sirius's wand.


	12. Chapter 12

C12: The Third Task

The first thing Tempest did when she exited Dumbledore's office was sprint to the seventh floor. She badly wanted to tell Sirius about what had just happened, and to give him back his wand… she could just imagine his face…

Three hours later, Tempest met up with Ron and Hermione in the common room after having spent a joyful few hours with Sirius while the later re-acquainted himself with his wand. He had spent two of the hours casting spells so enthusiastically that half the furniture in the Room of Requirement was demolished, and there were scorch marks on the walls. Then Sirius had been overzealous with repairing, he had also transformed most of the furniture into birds, before he had calmed down enough to turn them back. The remaining hour the two had spent talking about what Tempest had seen in the Pensive, even though she casually omitted the part about Neville's parents.

Even without Dumbledore telling her, Tempest wouldn't have told anyone else about Neville- it was his own business and she wasn't one to go around gossiping.

She now knew why Skeeter had said that she knew things about Bagman that would make her hair stand on end- she had been at the trial, and that must have been the grand mysterious past that Winky and Skeeter had been going on about. Personally, Tempest did think that Bagman was innocent- his story seemed to be genuine- and well… for all his faults, it couldn't be _Bagman_ of all people!

"So, You-Know-Who's getting stronger?" Ron asked.

Tempest sighed, shifting on her signature sofa in front of the fire. "Dumbledore seems to think so. The dream with Riddle in it- it's hardly a coincidence."

After talking to Sirius, Tempest had explained to Ron and Hermione everything that she had seen in the Pensieve, except for the scene with the Lestranges and Crouch's son. Tempest felt it would be too hard to explain without giving Neville away.

"And he _trusts_ Snape?" Ron said, "He really trusts Snape, even though he knows he was a death eater?"

"I wouldn't have trusted him even without the past," Tempest said darkly thinking of what certain other death eaters could do.

"He's saved your life before, Tempest," sighed Hermione with the same resigned air she used every time she defended Snape.

"Yeah, no, we've gone over that before," said Tempest impatiently, "And in any case, I don't even want to talk about him- it's been bugging me for a while- Fudge was suspecting Madame Maxime just because he thinks she's half-giant."

"She probably is though!"

"Well _yes_, Ron, but it's not like Fudge knows for sure, and also, he's being a bigoted, biased, prejudiced git."

Ron opened his mouth to continue, but then was interrupted as Hermione let out a cry of dismay. "Oh, we didn't have any time to practice any jinxes! I wanted to begin learning the Impediment Curse! We'll have to cover it tomorrow- come on Tempest, we need to get some sleep- and you too Ron."

Tempest followed Hermione up to their dormitory, feeling the day's events finally catch up to her now that the temporary euphoria of seeing Sirius reunited with his wand had worn off, and now she felt simply exhausted.

As Tempest changed into her night-clothes, she thought back to Neville. It just was just cruel, plain and simple to have parents still living, but unable to recognize you and treat you as if you did not exist to them.

Tempest finished dragging a brush through her untameable hair and got under the covers, hugging Nyx to her, and shifting Jr so that his spines weren't in her face, Tempest wondered whether… whether it was possible to cure them. It was a dangerous thought- after all, the staff at St Mungo's must have been working on it for years, and clearly no progress had been made- but weren't there potions for insanity?

Tempest knew there were, but they were all likely to have been tested… unless.

The Wolfsbane Potion, the potion that Snape had made for Remus's furry little problem, that let Remus keep his head while he was Moony- and the key ingredients were Wolfsbane and abstentine. Moony was Remus's nemesis at full moon, a part of him locked up for the rest of the month, but still there, only to be unleashed by the lunar cycles. Wolfsbane and abstentine used together were fatal to humans, but when taken in the Wolfsbane potion by a werewolf, it dragged Remus's usual consciousness to the fore, and locked the wolf away… If Tempest replaced the wolf with Mr and Mrs Longbottom's current frame of mind… would it be possible to make a potion to help them?

Tempest shot up in her bed, causing Nyx to hiss in complaint, and stared forwards in the darkness, ideas streaking through her mind. If she could do this…

She lay back down slowly. There was no use in getting her own hopes up in case the idea was a dead end, and she didn't want to tell Neville about her plan either, in case she got his hopes up, only to let them crash down around his ears, but tomorrow, she was going to the library.

~Y._.Y~

Exams were approaching, meaning that Ron and Hermione needed to study, restricting the time they could spend with Tempest, practicing for the Third Task, and Tempest refused for them to skive off just so they could help. She practiced with Sirius instead, and his sessions never failed to be intense and bruising, although she picked up a lot. It helped that Sirius had been training to be an Auror before… well, Azkaban.

However, Tempest couldn't ask for help for her own side project, which she spent all the time outside of the Room of Requirement or in class on. That, along with all the preparation for the Third Task, and the task she had also set herself of finding out how Skeeter was snooping around the school, left Tempest just as irritated and short on temper as the students who were sitting the exams, only worse, because combined with her famous temper, Tempest began snapping at anyone within a meter radius who disturbed her when she was poring over her books.

Nor did it help that the twins wanted her to discuss their latest prank with them day and night. Yes Tempest was their partner in their so-called mischief making enterprise, but it grated on her nerves, and no one was particularly sympathetic of her at the moment either, with the after-effects of the Witch Weekly article still circulating, and the fact that just because Tempest wasn't taking the exams people thought that she had days filled with relaxation and peace… Tempest was considering taking her Firebolt and breaking it over their heads… and considering how much she loved her broom, that was saying a lot.

Tempest's secret project -as she had nicknamed it after an ignorant hint from George- was becoming more and more frustrating. She had become obsessed with the idea of finding a cure for Frank and Alice Longbottom, but the more she researched the topic, the more doubtful she became.

First there was the fact that Tempest was basing all her hopes that Neville's parents previous consciousness and memories were locked away somewhere in their minds, and second was that the list of ingredients that Tempest had researched all were extremely volatile, and could not be mixed without extremely explosive effects, and all stabilizing agents that she could use only neutralized the ingredients, turning the potion into a cauldron full of mush.

Tempest threw down her quill, glaring at the eighteenth (or was it eightieth?) piece of parchment in front of her. She had been in the library for weeks now, searching up all possible potions that could help her, but none of them fit.

Therefore, Tempest had decided to dump all existing recipes, and focus on the ingredients themselves. For instance, Mandrake hair was the catalyst in most potions, but was extremely volatile when combined with Wolfsbane- however, Tempest couldn't cross off Wolfsbane from the list as it was essential for the entire potion to bring Frank and Alice back from insanity, but then there was the dilemma that it was fatal, and nothing she found could combine with it without making it worse, or neutralizing it. Unicorn tears, which were also a core ingredient could not mix with the crushed Manticore claws and neither could the lacewing flies come in contact with dragon blood.

It was like a complex Arithmancy problem, and Tempest was getting a splitting headache by merely thinking of it. If it wasn't for Tempest's stubbornness, or Tempest's first-hand knowledge of the loss of her parents, she would have given up already.

After all, Tempest had never had a chance to try to save her family, and now that she had one to attempt to save Neville's she wasn't going to let it pass.

June came more swiftly than Tempest could have imagined, and then she had to reluctantly set aside her project for the time being, and begin practicing for the Third Task again in earnest. She mainly practiced only with Sirius or the twins now, letting Ron and Hermione prepare for the exams.

People were coming up to her to bug her yet again, which contrary to the cheerful and excited mood of the castle, just made Tempest more on edge and irritated. She began practicing hexes, jinxes and curses at every available opportunity, and Tempest had even set aside her hatred for Skeeter to practice more.

Tempest felt much more prepared for the third task than she had for the other two, as this time she had a clear idea of what to do. After all, she did also have some experience in the way of getting past obstacles. She had added a wide selection of curses to her arsenal, among which there was the Impediment Curse, (to slow down attackers) the Reductor Curse, (to blast solid objects out of the way) the Conflagro Curse, (to turn inanimate objects into ash) then there were also some useful hexes, taught to her proudly by the Twins, the Jelly-legs jinx, the un-named spell that T&T had demonstrated on the studious Ravenclaws that made all of them turn green and spout pink bubbles, a minor invisibility charm to make someone's head disappear from the visible spectrum, and many, many more.

Tempest woke up into pitch darkness on the morning of the first task, and a quick glance through her hangings around her four poster told her that it was probably around three or four o'clock in the morning.

She had had a late night the previous day, and knew that she needed her rest, but her mind refused to shut down, until Tempest huffed, shifted so that she didn't disturb Nyx, who was curled up by Tempest's feet, and got out of bed.

She threw on a dressing gown, pulled on her slippers, and grabbing her invisibility cloak, she slipped down through the common room, past the Fat Lady, and around the corridors, heading for the seventh floor.

She didn't know whether or not Sirius would appreciate her disturbing him that late (or early, depending on perspective) at night, but she badly wanted to talk to someone- or, well, not talk, but just share the comfort of.

She was just passing the Charms corridor, when she ran into someone- literally.

Tempest fell backwards, the cloak slipping off her, and she came face to face with George.

"George!" Tempest hissed, scrambling to her feet, and picking up the cloak. "What are you doing here?"

George stared at Tempest in the semi-darkness of the hallway. "What are _you_ doing here Hedgy? At this time of the day… night… whichever."

"I was going to visit… our guest." Tempest said, eying some of the portraits that lined the hall. They all appeared to be asleep, but with the portraits, you never knew.

"Alright then, well I was busy pouring oil all over the floor of the Entrance Hall," George said, "Muggle pranks work just as well as the Wizarding ones."

Tempest grinned, "Yes, well, that's great, and remind me to not walk through the Entrance Hall in the morning, but if you don't mind-"

"Oh okay. I was just heading off to the Black Lake myself."

Tempest stopped, turning. "Why?"

George shrugged. "Well, when I get up late at night and can't go back to sleep, I end up either pranking, or taking late night strolls in the Forbidden Forest or along the Black Lake."

"Really?" Tempest asked. "What about Fred?"

"Oh no," George laughed, "My brother needs his beauty sleep."

Tempest gave a short bark of laughter, having heard Fred snore before, she knew that well enough. "I won't disagree with that."

"Why don't you come then?" George asked suddenly.

Tempest paused once again, still turned halfway down the corridor, before reaching a decision. "Yeah, alright, why not?"

After all, she didn't really want to disturb Sirius at that time of the night, and she hadn't seen George in a while either.

Tempest threw her cloak over George, then ducked under herself, finding that now the cloak only just brushed the floor as they walked. George had Weasley genes, and Tempest wouldn't have been surprised if one morning the twins upped and told her that they had reached seven feet.

They reached a side door just opposite the now slick and oily Entrance Hall, and with a quick _Alohamora_, the pair slipped through and out onto the rather cool grounds.

It wasn't too cold, but there was a chilly breeze, and the sky was clear with the crescent shape of the moon shining brightly down.

Tempest had been out in the school grounds plenty of times at night, but she had never really taken in the still silent air that just seemed to _breathe_ hidden magic.

Tempest followed George around the greenhouses and out onto the flat stretch of grass which extended all the way to the rocky shore of the Black lake. The Durmstrang ship looked eerie floating out near the middle of the lake, and ripples spread across the deceivingly calm surface of the lake, the Giant squid was probably fishing.

Tempest and George perched on a large rock near the edge of the lake, and Tempest swung her legs over the side, dangling her black velvet slippers over the dark water.

For several heartbeats, Tempest just watched the ripples spread across the smooth surface of the water, and the reflection of the star streaked sky, and then George broke the silence.

"So, are you… uh, nervous about the Third Task?"

Tempest shook her head in amazement. "You know, George- right there, that is why I like spending time with boys so much."

To his credit, George only blinked politely. "I- what?"

Tempest sighed heavily and pulled her legs back over the side of the rock, slipping off her slippers, and folding her feet underneath her. "It's just so easy to get along with you! I mean, girls… Well Hermione, she's great, and one of my _best_ friends, but with girls, it's just so complicated! I mean, their secrets have secrets, when they say one thing, they mean the exact opposite, and do not even get me started about the things they gossip about! Sometimes I think Hermione is the only exception to that in the female population at Hogwarts… but then there is Ginny, and Luna." Tempest leant back, tilting her head up to the sky, wondering absentmindedly how long it would take to try and count how many there were. "Boys… you get in a fight, you yell for a bit, then punch them, and then everything's fine!"

In the clear light from the moon, Tempest could see George's grimace. "Is that really all you think of us boys?" George said, feigning hurt. "I will have you know that we are just as complex as females-"

"Comparing yourself to girls, George?" Tempest asked wryly.

"Hmmm, yeah."

Silence descended once again, but it wasn't a strained tense silence, it was more of a companionable comfortable silence which Tempest savoured. She hadn't had much spare time to relax at all in the past few weeks. Even at night, she only slept six hours at the most, reading late into the night, and waking up early to rush off to the library early in the morning. In fact, she spent so much time in the library those days that Ron accused her of doing a 'Hermione'.

Tempest decided to reconsider the boys over girls idea.

"Yes," Tempest finally said. "If you really want to know, then yes, I _am_ nervous for the third task. I mean, I've practiced, and I've practiced until I think I could attack a fully grown Blast-Ended Skrewt in my sleep, but in case you haven't noticed, George, things rarely turn out the way I plan them- and I've planned _not_ to die in this tournament."

George's expression wavered between wanting to laugh and knowing it wouldn't be the right time. He settled for in-between. "Hedgy, you can't _die_, if you do, who're we going to call the girl-who-lived?"

Tempest snorted. "Okay, just add that to my list of woes- by my demise, all my faithful followers will no longer have anyone to call 'the girl-who-lived'… Colin Creevy will be so disappointed!" Tempest's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "_Such_ an original name by the way- the girl-who-lived… what's next? The girl-who-breathes? The girl-who-manages-to-make-it-through-the-entire-day-without-being-killed?"

George held up his hands placatingly. "Calm down, Hedgy, lower your spines, pointy… bits… whatever- what's wrong? Time of the month?"

Tempest sighed heavily. She was just so _sick_ of people thinking she was PMSing. At least George wasn't making a joke out of it at her expense, he was making a joke out of it _for_ her expense. A smile tugged at her lips as she thought of a suitable revenge.

"Well," Tempest began, propping her chin against her fist, and resting her fist on her right knee. "You know, I ended my last period on the 28th last month, so actually my next cycle should be coming pretty soon… It's interesting, because Hermione's-"

"Uh huh, uh huh, lalalalala!" George interrupted, pulling a face and slamming his hands over his ears childishly.

Tempest's laughter carried almost all the way up to the castle in the still night. "Oh, that was funny," Tempest chortled, "Your _face_!"

"Oh, yes," George said, his face turning red in the moonlight, "absolutely hilarious."

"You said it," Tempest grinned.

"Thanks for this by the way," Tempest said suddenly a few minutes after the two of them had lapsed back into a comfortable silence. "All of this-" she gestured in a wide sweeping motion to the scene. "-I've never actually been out at night to enjoy it."

"You're welcome," George said simply, and Tempest hid a smile. So George could be serious sometimes, a lot more mature- but he was still the same George who had hung her underwear out on the willow tree on the other side of the Black Lake for a prank, and refused to take it down for two weeks.

Tempest watched the moon glow softly in the sky, and thought to Remus, who would have to go through the full moon in a few weeks. She knew how the Marauders had helped him through their school years, but now… how had he been coping throughout the times when they weren't there- like the past thirteen years (omitting the past year, when he had the Wolfsbane potion). Maybe, when the term had ended, and Tempest was living with Sirius, then perhaps Padfoot could help on full moons.

But then again, it had taken all other three non-werewolf Marauder's to keep Moony in check, and now there was only one dog in comparison to the stag, rat and dog…

It was odd how something as beautiful as the moon could be such a source of horror for some people, Remus included.

Watching the Durmstrang ship rock slightly on the lake, and the trees rustle in the distance, and the stars twinkle brightly in the sky, it was a breath-taking sight, and the feeling of such content and comfort… It was almost easy to forget about the frustration of her secret project for the time being, to imagine the Third Task would be over soon, to know that she was now, for the first time in thirteen years, part of a family again, and now she was sitting there in the calm and quiet with George… and she just wanted to hold the thought, to hold the memory…

"Have you ever…" Tempest paused slightly, trying to find the words to phrase what was a sentence she wasn't even sure of. "Have you ever seen something… something unexplainable, something that you've been staring at for so long, and only just realized how beautiful it is? And you've wanted… that you've just wanted to keep- no, to just _have,_ have some _right_ to treasure, to admire… to appreciate it…"

There was no reply for a moment, and for a while there was only the soft sound of the crickets in the distance and the breeze rustling through the trees, and then she heard George shift slightly.

"Yes… yes I have."

Tempest's eyes were still staring out at the still lake, and so she didn't hear the note of apprehension in his voice, or see the fixed way George was staring at her with undivided intensity.

~Y._.Y~

Tempest regretted her midnight wanderings when she woke up completely exhausted on the morning of the Third task. She felt as though her brain had been surgically removed and substituted with cotton wool, and sewn up with steel thread.

She went down to breakfast and poured herself a cup of coffee instantly, and five more coffees quickly followed the first. Then, feeling somewhat better, Tempest began on her toast, and began to pay attention to the Hall around her.

Some of the people seated at the house tables seemed to be nursing bruises, and she heard some curses with the twins's names in them, and she recalled George's redecoration of the Entrance hall.

The Slytherins however, looked decidedly cheerful, but not in a way that made Tempest feel comfortable- decidedly not. They threw not-so covert glances at her, and sneered in her direction.

"What's going on?" Tempest asked Hermione, who was reading the Daily Prophet.

"What? Oh- nothing." Hermione said hurriedly, quickly folding up the paper.

"Who here of the two of us is meant to be the bad liar?" Tempest asked, beckoning at the paper. "Come on, it can't be that bad, can it?"

Hermione grimaced, ant Tempest gave her a quick smile. "Look, if it's Skeeter, I'll deal with her after the Third task- gimme!"

Tempest managed to snag the paper from Hermione, and flattened it out, resting the edge of the paper on a jug of Pumpkin juice.

Tempest found herself staring at her own picture (wearing the Hogwarts school robes and shifting uncomfortably in the photo) beneath the banner headline:

_"TEMPESTAS POTTER DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"_

_The girl who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Tempest Potter's strange behaviour, which casts doubts upon her suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even attend Hogwarts School._

_Miss Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and then is heard to suffer from bouts of dizziness and seizures originating from the scar on the left side of her face (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill her). On Monday last, midway through an Arithmancy lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Miss Potter collapsing on the ground then claiming to merely have been suffering from a 'headache'._

_It is possible, say top experts at St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Miss Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon her by You-Know-Who, and that her insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of her deep-seated confusion._

_"She might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."_

_The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Tempestas Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the Wizarding public._

_"Potter can speak Parseltounge," reveals Draco Malfoy, Miss Potter's ex-boyfriend and fellow Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought she was behind them after they saw her lose her temper at a duelling club and set a snake on another boy… she tried to make excuses I suppose, and Dumbledore believed her and covered it all up. But she'd made friends with werewolves and giants too… I suppose she'd do anything for a bit of power."_

_Parseltounge, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art._

_Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defence League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard or witch who could speak Parseltounge as worthy of investigation. "Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers. Similarly, anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence." _

_Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a girl such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in her desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening._

Tempest finished reading, thanking the stars that her blank mask which she carefully slid into place held up better under scrutiny than her lies did.

"So how's your studying for your History of Magic exam coming along?"

Ron gapped as Tempest. "How can you not be furious?" He asked incredulously, "I don't believe a word in it- an attention seeking prat is what they're making you out to be!" His cheeks flushed red as he recalled at the beginning of the school year when he had believed much the same.

Tempest shrugged. "It's not like I can do anything about it, and besides, I've got worse things to worry about- the Third task for one, and then how to smuggle Sirius out of the castle at the end of term… in any case, since when have I ever cared what anyone else thought?"

She flashed a grin at Ron, who gave her an uneasy smile back, whereas Hermione only gave Tempest a rather sympathetic look. She knew Tempest better than Ron, and perhaps it was too much to ask for, for her to not notice Tempest masking up her actual feelings. After all, they had lived in the same dormitory for the past three-four years.

Tempest kept her face carefully blank as she folded up the newspaper, pretending that she didn't care in the least.

On the contrary, she did.

Oh, she didn't know _when_ she had stopped not caring what others thought of her, and actually began worrying about others opinions of her… Was it because she cared about _them_, and therefore in retrospect, cared what they thought about her? The problem with caring was that it always hurt more when the other person stopped caring…

…and then Tempest realized she was thinking about Draco.

(Tempest had begun calling the person she had thought she knew, Draco, and the Slytherin git who was there right now chortling along with his other so-called friends, Malfoy.)

Of all things to feel- indignant, annoyed, furious, vengeful… she felt betrayed.

For Merlin's sake! Here she was mooning over a boy who had dumped her in the worst way imaginable, and a boy who had been pretending the whole while. Only he had played his part so well that Tempest couldn't help thinking that perhaps there was some part of Malfoy that was still Draco…

_Just because you're such a horrible liar, doesn't mean we all are._

**Shut up. ** Tempest told herself, banishing Malfoy's voice, which was still ringing in her ears, mocking her. **Shut up and get over him already. There shouldn't even be anything ****_to_**** get over- after all, it was all fake. Now you're just haunting over something that never existed… and that's just pathetic. How much proof do you need? Here he is, giving interviews about you to ****_Skeeter_****! Get your head out of the clouds, Tempest.**

"How did Skeeter even _know_ about what happened in Arithmancy?" Hermione asked finally, shaking Tempest out of her stupor. "We were in the classroom- there's nowhere to hide in there- and the door was closed-"

"I opened the window, Hermione," Tempest reminded her, knowing that she should be worrying about Skeeter's uncanny ability to be at the exact place at the exact time that Tempest least wanted her there, but with everything else that had been happening lately, she was the least of her problems.

"Yes, but we were still on the fifth floor- unless Skeeter is a giraffe, and even then, I don't think your voice could have carried all the way down to the grounds…"

"I don't know, Hermione," Tempest sighed, rubbing at her eyes tiredly. "If you want to pick up from where I left off with researching possible methods of her spying on me, then by all means… but right now I've got a death maze to get through… so…"

Hermione huffed as though she couldn't imagine why on earth Tempest was letting it go, but to Tempest's relief, she decided to put the topic aside for the time being.

"Alright, then, next problem. How are we going to smuggle Padfoot out of the castle?" Tempest asked.

"Throw him under the invisibility cloak," Ron said.

"Yes, and that's all very well, but what if the cloak slips off?" Tempest said, "I mean, he's taller than George, and when George gets under the cloak, even then the cloak fits just right. He's a grown man, and I don't think that with around eight hundred other students that there are high chances of the cloak _not_ getting ripped off him by accident."

"Just trying to help," Ron said, crunching loudly at his cereal.

Hermione threw him her customary disgusted look, then turned to Tempest. "Then get him to turn into his animagus form. That's smaller right?"

Tempest gave a short laugh. "Hermione, have you not _seen_ Padfoot as Padfoot? As Padfoot, he's either an undersized bear or a larger version of Fang."

"Yes, but the cloak fits sideways right? And so, even if it does slip, then we could just call of the appearance of a dog in the middle of the train station a prank that you and the Twins are pulling."

Tempest nodded slowly. "Yes, that does make sense… and hmm, I should talk to Fred and George about a new prank after this task…"

Hermione merely shook her head, hiding a smile behind her bushy hair. "You've changed, Tempest."

Tempest finished her sixth cup of coffee, throwing it straight back, then choking and coughing violently. "Changed- how?" she said, in-between gasps.

Ron banged her on the back, and Tempest, massaging her throat, returned her attention to Hermione.

"Oh you know," Hermione said, shrugging. "Only, ever since Sirius cast that blood charm… you've just changed- oh not a lot-" she said quickly, seeing Tempest's worried frown, "Just little things, you know… you've become a messier eater- not as bad as Ron yet though- your laugh sounds more… like a bark… and it's almost like your face as just sharpened slightly… it makes you look just a tiny bit more like him."

"Well… that's all very flattering," Tempest said, taking a breath, "And I'm happy to know that you've spent so much of your deductive reasoning on-"

"Animagus!" Ron yelled suddenly, spraying both Tempest and Hermione with crumbs, and making the pair of them jump.

"What about them?" Tempest asked, brushing herself off.

Ron, who had been sitting and frowning into empty space just a moment ago looked as though he had been electrified. He beckoned Tempest and Hermione to lean in closer, then in a harsh whisper, he began.

"What if Skeeter's an animagus? Think about it- it makes sense! She could hide in plain daylight! She'd probably be something inconspicuous, like a… a fly or something- so you could see her and not even realize!"

Tempest sat back against the bench. An _animagus-_ probably an unregistered one too… it did make sense… and oh, Skeeter would be in _so _much trouble… Of course, Prongs and Padfoot had only become animangi to help Moony, whereas Skeeter had become one to get juicy scoop to ruin people's lives.

"We need proof though," Tempest said, "So keep an eye out- anything that looks remotely suspicious- hey Min- Hello, Professor McGonagall."

Minnie was walking down alongside the Gryffindor table towards them.

"Miss Potter," she said, when she reached where the three of them were sitting. "The champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast," she said.

"But the task's not until tonight," Tempest said worriedly, hoping that she hadn't gotten the time of all things wrong. "Why'd they want us?"

"The champion's families are invited to watch the final task," Minnie said, "This is a change for you to greet them." She turned as if to walk away, then rotated on the spot so she was facing Tempest again. "Oh, and Miss Potter- please inform Mr George Weasley, that the clean-up of the Entrance hall will fall to him- without magic."

Tempest turned back to Ron and Hermione as Minnie walked away. "She said families are visiting." Tempest said flatly. "She can't go herself, because she'll already be there, and it'll blow our cover story- who d'you think she's talking about?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, you'd better go, Tempest. Ron and I have a History of Magic exam, and we'll talk about Skeeter later."

Tempest gave them a swift nod, and a quick 'good luck' for the exam, before turning and walking across the hall. She saw Fleur get up from the Ravenclaw table, and Cedric from the Hufflepuff, and she followed them out of the Great Hall.

She saw Amos Diggory and his wife standing nearby, and at the sight of Cedric, they rushed forwards and pulled him into a hug. Tempest saw a woman with sheets of long silvery hair identical to Fleur's, holding the hand of the little girl- Gabrielle- who Tempest had seen at the bottom of the Black Lake. They were jabbering away in French at each other, gesturing madly. Viktor was already there, standing in a corner, talking to his dark-haired mother and father in rapid Bulgarian.

Tempest couldn't see anyone who remotely resembled anyone who Minnie would classify as her family. The only people in the room who weren't Fleur, Viktor or Cedric's parents or siblings were two men with brown hair who looked like brothers with the same build and height, although one had rather strange amber eyes, and the other a handsome grey…

"Remus!" Tempest exclaimed, throwing herself at the man on the right.

"Tempest!" Remus said, slightly winded, then in an undertone as he hugged Tempest, he said, "And, Tempest, by the way, Padfoot and I are incognito- He's Snuffles, and I'm Monty, not too far of a stretch."

"Alright, but- you're here! And Sir- Snuffles- how-"

"Dumbledore," Sirius replied. "He's the one who changed our appearances. I don't think many people would take kindly to seeing me here, and it'd pose too many question if Remus came here when everyone already knows him as Professor Lupin."

"Well then… _great_!"

"Yeah!" Sirius's appearance may have changed drastically, but the same childish enthusiasm shone through his face. "Merlin, I haven't been here without hiding in over eighteen years… want to give us a tour, Tempest?"

Tempest glanced around to see whether or not they were allowed to leave, and seeing Cedric and his parents departing too, she decided to take the two Marauder's for a long walk along the Black Lake.

Tempest completely forgot about Skeeter as she led Sirius and Remus out onto the school grounds and around the Whomping Willow.

With no-one around, the two reminisced freely, spouting long tales about their Marauder years which Tempest thought- if they were all true- accounted for the majority of Minnie's grey hairs.

"How are you anyway, Moony?" Tempest asked, as she watched the Whomping Willow's branches begin tormenting a squirrel, who was trapped between its branches. "There was a, uh, lunar episode two weeks ago."

Remus shrugged. Even with Dumbledore's disguise, the man still looked tired and worn. "I'm used to it, Tempest," he said vaguely, skirting the question, but the casualness of his answer still made Tempest uneasy. After the Marauder years, after Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail were no longer… there for each full moon, how many more terrifying nights did Remus have to go through? And even with Sirius out of Azkaban, Padfoot couldn't keep Moony distracted by himself. Even at Hogwarts in their fifth-seventh years, Moony had always needed two Marauders with him to keep him sufficiently distracted.

Now, with Prongs quite plainly… dead, Wormtail lost, Padfoot couldn't handle Moony alone at full moon…

It was at moments like these when Tempest came up with her insane plans.

First it was her plan to save Neville's parents from their own minds, and now it was a risky and improbable plan to… to do something that was so Marauder like that Prongs would have been proud.

After all, if Skeeter could do it…

Tempest kept her mouth shut as she listened to Sirius recounting a particularly exciting night when the Marauders had set off a spectacular fireworks display, shooting up rude words and images into the night sky, making the caretaker of those days- Apollyon Pringle run to and fro trying to extinguish them, while the staff watched on, and Sirius claimed that the next day in charms, Prof. Flitwick had awarded twenty points to Gryffindor for such a spectacular display of magic.

Tempest laughed outright at that one, and as they walked along the tree-line of the Forbidden Forest she decided to tell Sirius and Remus about her run-in with the giant spiders in the Forest.

It wasn't exactly something that Tempest would have considered a prank- after all, she had gone in with Ron to find evidence to get Hagrid out of Azkaban, and bring Dumbledore back to Hogwarts, but come to think of it, her pranks with the twins paled in comparison to the seven years of havoc that the Marauders had brought to Hogwarts… and the spider story was a rather exciting tale.

Tempest tried to embellish the story, gesturing wildly and adding odd comments to the narration, to make it seem more like a fun adventure, rather than the possibly fatal encounter that it had been.

Thankfully, to Tempest's relief, the other two Marauders seemed to accept her highly edited version of events, and Sirius had even begun laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes when Tempest told them of her vanishing the legs of the spiders and the way they had toppled over like skittles. (She had to explain what bowling was.)

Tempest had a thoroughly enjoyable morning, just wandering around the school with Sirius and Remus. She had to introduce them as her wizarding next-door neighbours in her supposed muggle neighbourhood –a pair of brothers who invited her over a few times to their house. She had endure all the curious looks for the odd names 'Monty' and 'Snuffles', but Tempest couldn't have cared less.

Sirius and Remus were there- no-one was staring at Remus with fear and loathing, and no-one was pointing at Sirius and screaming 'Murderer!'… and Tempest felt that even with the Third task right in front of her and being hailed to the world as insane, if she had been asked to cast a Patronus, it would have banished every Dementor within a ten thousand mile radius.

The three of them walked back into the Great Hall for lunch, and Tempest was astonished to see Mrs Weasley with Bill sitting at the Gryffindor table next to Ron.

"Mrs Weasley!" Tempest said, approaching her. "Why are you here?"

Her smile faltered as Molly Weasley gave her a rather tight-lipped smile that did not reach her cold eyes. "Hello Tempest."

Tempest cut eyes between Molly and Ron and realized what was going on.

"Molly, you didn't believe a word Skeeter wrote, did you?" Remus said before Tempest could- he must have reached the same conclusion that Tempest had.

"-because Tempest has never once before been your son's boyfriend." Sirius cut in.

"Oh!" Mrs Weasley turned red and stared at the two men behind Tempest. "-and you are?"

"We live close by to Tempest-" Remus supplied. "You could say that we're her uncles in a way."

Tempest almost laughed at the truthfulness of that statement, but managed to compose herself as Mrs Weasley turned to her. "Oh, well, I'm sorry my dear- Bill and I came to see you, we were a bit late because- well… oh come here!"

Tempest gave an awkward grin as Mrs Weasley crushed her in a warm embrace, immediately fussing around with Tempest's hair and brushing off Tempest's robes for her. She didn't blame Mrs Weasley for thinking that Tempest had been messing around with Ron- after all, they did spend a lot of time together, perhaps not as much as they used to, but they were close friends, and well, Skeeter could sprout lies just as easily as Fang could mess on Hagrid's pumpkins.

Mrs Weasley began discussing the History of Magic exam earnestly with Ron, and Tempest decided to leave them to it, now that she had made up and everything.

Tempest led Sirius and Remus around the castle, avoiding the dungeons (she didn't think a run in with Snape would be the best thing to happen at the moment), but she went by the Transfiguration corridor, where they bumped into Minnie.

They exchanged a few words, and Minnie must have been let known about Monty and Snuffles' real identity because she eyed them suspiciously throughout the entire conversation, then gave a very pointed remark about _behaving oneself_ while on the school grounds, before wishing Tempest a quick 'good luck' for the Third task, and then departing.

Finally, when it was time for the evening feast, the three Marauders returned to the Great hall, and sat down at the Gryffindor Table.

Casually scanning the staff table, Tempest saw to her annoyance, Ludo Bagman seated by Hagrid, looking quite cheerful, and Cornelius Fudge, who was sitting by Madame Maxime. He didn't look very happy at all, and Tempest wondered whether it was a result of the conversation he had had with Dumbledore in his office.

Madame Maxime herself was staring down at her plate, and Tempest thought her eyes looked red as if she had been crying. Hagrid kept glancing along the table at her, and Tempest absentmindedly wondered how things were between the two of them, and whether they had talked or not.

There were almost twice as many courses than usual, but Tempest was too busy talking to Sirius and Remus to even pay any attention to the food. She knew that she should be beginning to feel nervous by now, but perhaps the situation hadn't quite hit her yet, or maybe it was because with Moony and Padfoot there, Tempest felt more confident.

When the enchanted ceiling overhead began to fade from a deep blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rose to his feet at the staff table, and silence fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr Bagman down to the stadium now."

Tempest gave Sirius and Remus a quick hug, then stood up, and the combined roar of the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs was almost deafening as Tempest and Cedric began to walk out of the Great Hall, followed closely by Fleur and Viktor.

"Felling alright, Tempest?" Bagman asked as they went down the stone steps onto the grounds. "Confident?"

"Excellent," Tempest said harshly, recalling with annoyance what Fred and George had told her about Bagman. "Perhaps I would be better though, if people weren't betting on my neck to see whether or not I would win."

Bagman blanched, turning white, and he glanced around superstitiously as if to see whether anyone else was in earshot.

The other three champions were however a fair way behind, and well out of earshot, fortunately enough for Bagman.

"How did you-"

"I have my sources," Tempest said, inwardly laughing at the way Bagman's face paled. "And I suppose that's why you've kept offering to help me for the Tournament?"

She took his silence as an affirmation.

"So, I'm going to make you a deal," Tempest said, an idea suddenly occurring to her. It wasn't blackmail, not really… "If I do win- and I'm not saying I will- but if I do, and you get off with the goblins, the absolute first thing you do is pay back Fred and George."

Bagman blinked, as though it was the last thing he had been expecting Tempest to ask for. "And-" he licked his lips nervously, "What happens if you do not win?"

"Well then, you better hope that I do," Tempest said, "Because you're still going to be paying Fed and George back- and if you don't-" Tempest looked sideways at Bagman's sweating face and felt a sudden rush of intense disgust, and all thoughts of avoiding blackmail went out the window. "Then I swear, by the next day the whole wizarding world will know of your little 'financial problems'."

Tempest sped up her pace, out-striding Bagman, and heading towards the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of her- the entrance to the vast maze.

It looked so forbidding, Tempest stopped, and decided to wait for the other champions to catch up.

When they had arrived, Tempest immediately dove into the conversation with the other champions, throwing subtle sideway glances at Bagman, who stood on the spot, shifting awkwardly.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill, and the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear.

Hagrid, Professor Moody, Minnie, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium, and approached them.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Minnie to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

Tempest felt a wave of relief at the words- so they weren't going to be entirely alone in the maze, and she nodded along with the other champions.

"Off you go then!" Bagman said, with a touch of his old cheer to the four patrollers.

"Good luck Tempest," Hagrid whispered, and as Minnie passed her, Tempest felt Minnie's hand give her own a reassuring squeeze before the four of them walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze.

Bagman then pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, "Sonorus," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

Tempest didn't know whether it was just her, but there was a notable difference in his tone- it was less hearty, and there was an almost detectable shaking in his voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! In first place with eighty-five points- Mr Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" There was a roar of cheering from the stands, and the applause sent birds wheeling into the air from the Forbidden Forest.

"Tied in second place, with eighty points each- Mr Cedric Diggory, and Miss Tempestas Potter, both of Hogwarts school!" There was another wave of sound, more applause, and Tempest saw clearly against the night sky several people send up red and gold sparks, and then closer examination revealed that it was 'Monty' and 'Snuffles' sitting with the Weasleys on the stands, applauding for her.

"-and in third place- Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!"

"So- on my whistle, Viktor, if you please-" Bagman gestured for Viktor to station himself by the entrance of the maze, "Three-two-one-"

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Viktor strode forwards into the darkness of the maze, the back of his red robes quickly vanishing out of sight.

A few minutes passed, and then Bagman was gesturing for Tempest and Cedric to get into position. "Cedric and… Tempest- Three-two-one…"

He blew his whistle again, and Tempest and Cedric hurried forwards into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick, or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment they entered the maze. The absence of sound was almost as stifling as water, and Tempest felt as if that was really what had happened.

She pulled out her wand, reassured by the familiar feeling of the slim wood, and muttered, "Lumos,". From behind her, she heard Cedric do the same thing.

After what Tempest imagined was fifty yards, they reached a fork.

Tempest glanced at Cedric. "I guess- I'll see you."

"Yeah," Cedric said, and he opened his mouth as if to say more, but then he merely nodded, and took the right fork.

Tempest took the left.

Tempest heard the whistle blow again, somewhere in the distance, and she knew Fleur had entered the maze. Tempest sped up, almost running down the narrow path. It seemed completely deserted and with no obstacles in sight.

Tempest turned right, holding her wand higher, willing it to brighten even more so that she could see further ahead- but there was nothing to see.

Tempest found the lack of things in her path to be unnerving. It shouldn't be this easy- unless they were trying to lure her into a false sense of security… and she had the oddest feeling she was being watched…

The maze grew darker and darker as the sky overhead deepened to navy, and Tempest reached a second fork.

Tempest decided it was time to use the spell that she had found with Hermione. "Point me," Tempest said to her wand, holding it flat in her palm.

Her wand spun around once, and then stopped with the lighted end pointing toward her right, straight through solid hedge.

That way was north then, and she knew that northwest was the direction of the centre of the maze… She should go left and then go right again as soon as possible. The path ahead was also empty, and when Tempest reached a right turn and decided to take it, she found her way unblocked yet again.

Tempest gripped her wand tighter, every sense on high alert as she hurried onwards. Then she heard the sound of twigs and branches snapping behind her, and she whirled around, ready to curse whatever it was to oblivion, but only to see it was Cedric, who had just stumbled out of a path on the right hand side, the sleeve of his robes smoking.

"Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts," he hissed, glancing behind him, "They're enormous- I only just go away!"

He shook his head and dived out of sight, along another path. Not wanting to meek the Skrewts herself, Tempest hurried onwards again. Then, as she turned a corner, she saw a dementor gliding towards her.

Twelve feet tall, it's face hidden by its hood, it's rotting, scabbed hands outstretched, it advanced, sensing it's way blindly towards her… Tempest could hear it's rattling breath, and the temperature turned frigid around her- her breath misting…

Tempest stumbled backwards, her mind blanking, hand clenched around her wand uselessly… a happy memory… a happy memory…

Tempest concentrated on Sirius, the hope that after the maze, after the school year- she could move in with him, and _finally_ she would have a family…. "Expecto Patronum!" Tempest yelled, and a silver stallion burst out of her wand and galloped towards the dementor, which fell backwards and tripped over the hem of its robes… Tempest had never seen a dementor be so clumsy…

"A boggart?" Tempest said, advancing on the boggart-dementor, protected by the silvery aura of the stallion. "Riddikulus!"

Tempest sent a quick mental thanks to Remus for third-year defence lessons as the dementor/boggart exploded in a wisp of smoke. The silver stallion faded from sight, and Tempest wished it had stayed.

In fact…

Tempest took out her wand again. There was just something so inexplicably comforting about her patronus, just the warm glow that it gave, and the soft silvery light that emitted from it…

"Expecto Patronum!"

The silver horse burst from Tempest's wand tip, and cantered in a loose circle around Tempest, lighting up the narrow path where she stood, and Tempest instantly felt better. It almost felt like she wasn't alone with her patronus there… Sirius had speculated that patronus's represented what gave her strength.

Her patronus used to be a doe- and Sirius had said that her mother had been a doe too… only now it was a stallion, and Tempest didn't know why exactly it had changed…

Tempest shook off the thoughts and moved on, her patronus keeping her pace with ease. Tempest felt almost confident now. Nothing truly bad could happen to her now… She look a left, right, and another left in quick succession, but twice she found herself in dead ends, and the 'Point me' spell was showing her that she was going too far east…

Tempest turned around a took a right, only to see an odd golden mist floating ahead of her.

It was undoubtedly an enchantment, that much was clear- but would it harm her if she went through it?

Tempest snorted. Of course it would- it was in the maze after all…

"Reducto!" Tempest yelled, but the jet of purple light merely passed straight through the golden mist, not disturbing it in the slightest. But then again, the Reductor Curse was for solid objects…

"Tempestas!" Tempest said, pointing her wand back at the golden mist, but the sheet of wind that emitted from her wand also passed straight through the mist, leaving it untouched, even though the force of the moving air tore leaves from the surrounding hedges and sent them swirling upwards.

Tempest glanced behind her, then back at the mist. Should she chance it and go through? Or should she-

Tempest was still deliberating when a scream shattered the silence.

"Fleur?" Tempest yelled, the scream had come from in front of her- and the only way through was forwards…

"Should I?" Tempest whispered to her patronus, not even feeling foolish.

The horse tossed its head and walked straight through the mist, pawing at the ground with its insubstantial hoof, encouraging Tempest.

Tempest took a deep breath. It couldn't be that bad if her patronus was telling her to…

And she ran through the mist.

The world flipped upside down. Tempest was hanging upside down, her feet on the ground above her, and the endless sky beneath her, with her hair on end and robes hanging over her head. Her feet seemed glued to the grass, which was now the ceiling, and if she fell- then she'd fall forever…

There wasn't a single spell that Tempest had learnt that would help her now…

_Think!_ Tempest told herself. There was no way that the world had actually been reversed- it must just have been a spell to mess with her orientation… only she was most certainly upside down, and her robes were most certainly falling down over her due to gravity (she thanked Merlin she was wearing shorts) but she couldn't stay there forever…

Tempest concentrated- she couldn't see her patronus anywhere, which led her to believe that she was right- it was all just in her head… and concentrating on that thought, Tempest pulled her left leg free from the ground.

Instantly the world reversed again, turning the right way up, and Tempest fell forwards, landing flat on her stomach, winded. She lay there trembling for a moment, wanting to kiss the ground and lie there forever, until she remembered Fleur.

Tempest scrambled to her feet, seeing to her relief, that her patronus was still there, waiting patiently.

"Where's Fleur?" Tempest asked, and immediately the stallion turned and began to lead her down the path. Amazed that it had actually worked, Tempest followed growing increasingly nervous as they wound deeper into the maze, and then all of a sudden, the patronus vanished into silver mist.

Tempest was plunged into pitch blackness as the glow of her patronus faded, and she was so surprised she continued walking, and ran straight into something, knocking her to the ground.

Tempest scrambled backwards automatically, instantly on alert.

"Lumos!" Tempest said, and her wand tip ignited, casting light on something she would rather not have seen.

Inches from her was a Blast-ended Skrewt, enormous just as Cedric had said. Ten feet long with its long sting curled over its back and its horrible many legs it scuttled towards her, making Tempest freeze with fright.

It was almost on top of her when Tempest regained her senses.

"Incendio!" she yelled, and a blast of flame shot straight towards the Skrewt, making it chitter threateningly.

She hadn't done much harm though, because to her horror, most of the flames had merely brushed over the Skrewt's armour, and it was advancing on her again.

"Stupefy!" Tempest yelled, then ducked as the jet of red light rebounded off the Skrewt's back, and shot back towards her.

"Impedimenta!" Tempest shouted, "Stupefy! Incendio! Stupefy!" All of the spells ricocheted off the Skrewt's armour, and she had to leap to the side to avoid being hit by her own spells.

"Reducto!"

The curse hit the Skrewt on its fleshy underside, and it was blasted backwards.

Tempest wasted no time, almost tripping, she whirled around and ran, as fast as her legs could push her, in the opposite direction. The Skrewt could be regaining its feet any moment, and then it would be following…

Tempest ran until her chest felt like it was tearing in two, and then ran for several more steps, then finally slowed to a fast paced walk, stumbling occasionally into the tall hedges. She knew she was hopelessly lost, but she had no energy to perform the Point Me spell… who cared if she came in last? She just wanted to rest for a while…

Tempest sat down, still gripping her wand, and allowed herself to relax marginally.

Her stitch was only just fading when she heard the sound of footfalls, and then suddenly Cedric came into view, rounding the corner towards her, stumbling backwards. He hadn't seen her yet-

"What are you doing?" he yelled to whatever it was that was obviously advancing on him. "What the hell d'you think you're doing?"

Tempest scrambled to her feet, ignoring the burn in her side. "Cedric?"

"Crucio!"

The jet of red light hit Cedric just as he was turning towards Tempest, and then, right before Tempest's eyes, he was on the ground, screaming and yelling in pain, and then Viktor was rounding the corner, his wand pointing at Cedric.

"Viktor!" Tempest yelled, running towards them, "What the bloody- get away from him! Impedimenta!"

The spell knocked Viktor backwards, but he recovered quickly, whirled around, and began to run away, just as Tempest yelled; "Stupefy!"

The spell hit him in the back, and he fell forwards, lying motionless face down in the grass.

Tempest rushed forwards, grabbing Cedric's shoulder and shaking him slightly. He had stopped screaming, and was lying there panting, his eyes wide and pupils dilated even in the near darkness.

"Cedric! Are you alright?" she asked, helping him up, while he leant heavily on her.

"Fine," Cedric said breathlessly, "He just crept up behind me… I don't believe it… he had his wand on me…"

The pair limped over to where Viktor lay, and stared at him.

"I can't- I can't believe this-" Tempest said, "An unforgiveable? Hermione… she'll be devastated…"

Cedric looked down at Viktor with an unreadable expression. "I thought he was alright too… he was decent- he gave me tips on flying-"

Tempest gave a rather choked laugh. "Oh, he gave you tips too? If that was all that was required for trust…"

"Did you hear Fleur scream before?" Cedric asked suddenly, looking at Tempest seriously.

"Yeah," Tempest said, unwilling to continue with the sentence.

"D'you… d'you suppose Krum got her too?"

Tempest shook her head, not sure at all why she didn't think so. Maybe it was only because Viktor was dating Hermione, and Tempest know how horrified she would be if she heard… "Perhaps… maybe he was cursed? Was he acting weird before he cursed you?"

Cedric shuddered. "Well… he… he snuck up on me- he wouldn't do that- he's not some coward in the dark… and his face was blank- didn't you see?"

Tempest nodded slowly. Viktor's face _had _been strangely blank… but they couldn't stand there forever. There were the Skrewts to think about- and whatever other hidden dangers lay in the maze. "We should send up red sparks," Tempest said, "We don't want him to get eaten or anything."

Cedric almost looked like he was about to argue, but he said nothing as Tempest raised her wand and sent a spray of red sparks up into the air.

"We should go," Tempest said, glancing at Cedric, "They'll be along soon."

"Yeah- lets…" said Cedric.

Wordlessly, they turned and walked away, their footsteps sounding far too loud to Tempest in the silence of the maze. They reached a fork, and Tempest took the right, with only a parting nod at Cedric.

They weren't friends anymore, they were competitors, and now badly wanted to find the cup, not just to win for the twins, but to just get out of the maze. It was only her and Cedric left, competing against each other again…

Tempest turned left, then right, then left again. The increasing darkness led her to believe that she was nearing the centre of the maze, and the dead ends were popping up every meter or so, causing Tempest to have to change direction. Then, as she rounded a corner, the light from her wand fell upon a creature that she had only seen once in picture form in her Monster Book of Monsters.

A sphinx.

It had the head of a woman, the body of an over-large lion, complete with great clawed paws and a long yellowish tail ending with a brown tuft. The sphinx turned her long, almond-shaped eyes upon Tempest as she walked closer cautiously. She wasn't posed to spring, but she was still pacing from side to side in front of Tempest, blocking her from passing her. Then as Tempest neared, she spoke in a deep hoarse voice.

"You are very near your goal. The quickest way is past me."

Tempest sucked in a breath. So she was close. "Will you let me pass?"

As Tempest expected, the sphinx shook her head. "No," she said, continuing to pace. "Not unless you can answer my riddle. Answer on your first guess- I let you pass. Answer wrongly- I attack/ Remain silent- I will let you walk away from me unscathed."

Tempest hesitated. On one hand, she was close- so close she could almost _hear_ the cheers of the Gryffindors, and the exuberant yells of Sirius and the twins, saying that they knew she could do it…

But then, on the other, she could get badly mauled.

"Could I hear the riddle?"

The sphinx almost looked like she wanted to smile, but instead, she merely sat down on her hind legs in the middle of the path, and recited:

_I am made of five, and feared by most, but experienced by all._

_If you remove my first, and remove my last, I bring life._

_If you add the beginning of riddles before the forth, I am almost nothing,_

_And if you remove the first of the third, I am home._

_What am I?_

Tempest gapped at the sphinx. She was beginning to regret her decision.

"You may remain silent and walk away," the sphinx reminded Tempest.

It was that that banished whatever thoughts Tempest had of walking away. The words were not spoken as a challenge, but Tempest took them as such.

"Alright then, uh, could you repeat that? Please?"

The Sphinx smiled, revealing pointed canines, and repeated the riddle, albeit a tiny bit slower.

"So- um, I suppose, 'I am made of five'… five what? People?" Tempest began to pace, almost mimicking the sphinx's movements from before. "You said- remove, and add… I'm guessing it's a word- letters! Five letters!"

The sphinx dipped its head, and Tempest took it as an affirmation. "Alright- so, five letters, and it's something that most fear, but all experience… I'll get back to that… If you remove my first- and my last I bring life… what brings life? Doctors? Healers? Or something that _gives _life? Water? Food? No… it begins with five- then removes two… it's a three letter word that brings life… food… er… Maybe it's a kind of food that you eat- Eat!"

The sphinx smiled, and emboldened by her success, Tempest continued on to the next line.

"The beginning of riddles? Before the fourth letter… Well, the beginning of riddles is 'R'- thank you Hermione- and so… Eat… If there are five letters, and the first and last letters are removed, making eat- then 'r' is added before the fourth letter… that makes _eart_... I'll get back to that too… _And if you remove the first of the third, I am home._ Home? So the third- I suppose the third line? So, if we remove the first letter of _eart_, I get eart_. What… eart? Where is home? I suppose it's not talking about me in specific- but people in general… Well, in houses? No- that doesn't fit… we live on the ground… except eart_ doesn't fit into that… We all live on earth- Earth! Home is earth!"

Tempest blinked, amazed that she had managed to discern that much. "So, so far, the answer to the second line was 'Eat', the answer to the fourth line was 'Earth' and I know that the third line ends with earth which makes it almost nothing… what is a word that ends with 'earth' and means 'almost nothing?' I could just go along the alphabet… Aearth? Bearth? Cearth? Dearth? Eearth?" Tempest paused. "Wait- dearth-"

Tempest was amazed she knew the word, or at least, could still remember it then.

She remembered the very first words she had learnt how to read, the day that she- a five year old had been left at the Dursley's house alone while they went to a dinner party, she had seen a piece of paper on the floor, and knowing that she would have been yelled at for something on the floor- even if it wasn't her fault- Tempest had picked it up, recognizing it to be what she had heard Petunia call 'Dudder's school report'.

So in a sudden, unplanned act, Tempest had taken the paper, hidden it away in her cupboard, and slowly, day by day, she had taught herself how to read. 'Dudder's school report' was hardly flattering, Tempest recalled- there was one particular line that she had never understood- and it was a teacher's comment.

**_The absolute dearth of your son's ability to control himself will affect his learning in later life, I suggest-_**

It was only now, nine years later, that Tempest recalled it- and dearth… dearth meant a lack of something- or, in other words, _almost nothing._

And if dearth was the third line… then the first….

"Death," Tempest said, stunned that she had reached the answer. "It's death."

The sphinx grinned broadly, and she stood, stretching her front legs, and moved aside.

"Thank you!" Tempest said, "I- thank you!"

She hurried past the sphinx, she _knew_ she was close… but there was just one thing… "What's your name?" Tempest asked, pausing just by the next corner.

The sphinx regarded her, and Tempest had the feeling that she was actually surprised. "Cassandra." The sphinx said, "And good luck, Tempestas Potter."

Tempest nodded, then dashed around the corner.

Tempest was close now- she could just _see_ the cup in front of her, the faces of Mrs Weasley, Bill, Ron, Fred, George… Minnie, Hermione, Remus, Sirius…

It was almost a _need_ now, she _had_ to get that cup first… If she didn't… she wouldn't be able to live it down- being beaten once again by pretty-boy Diggory…

Tempest broke into a run, ignoring the burning pain in her side. The hedges flashed by as she sprinted along the path- there was a fork ahead of her- "Point me!" Tempest yelled, and her wand spun around and pointed to the dead centre of the right-hand one… She tore down the path, and then she saw a light ahead.

The Triwizard Cup was gleaming on a plinth a hundred yards away.

Tempest broke into a flat out sprint, forcing her feet to push her faster… and then something slammed into her from the side and she hit the ground with a muffled yell, kicking out at whatever it was.

"Ow!" Cedric yelled. Tempest twisted around free of his grip, and scrambled back to her feet, shoving him away as she turned back to the cup, beginning to run again- she was so close… forty… thirty feet…

Then something tackled her, and she fell again, her wand rolling away from her.

"Get off!" Tempest yelled, her fingers scrabbling around in the grass for her wand, and her fingertips touched the hilt… she grabbed it, and then she was panting, facing a dishevelled Cedric, her wand pointed inches from his neck.

Blood was pounding in her ears and a wave of rage roaring in her mind- she should do it- hex him, then go for the cup- it was so close…

"Tempest! Tempest, snap out of it!"

Cedric was staring at her, undisguised fear flickering behind his eyes as he remained motionless, still in an awkward position, sprawled on the ground… he was wandless- somehow Tempest must have managed to disarm him…

Tempest shook her head vigorously. The anger was fading now, her head clearing. The burning desire for the cup was gone too. She still wanted it- but not with the intensity of before. "I- I, don't know- Look out!"

Tempest lunged at Cedric, pulling him aside just as a gigantic, monstrous shape lunged through a path that intersected with the one they were in, and then the world flipped- only it wasn't some enchantment- Tempest was hanging upside down, her eyes staring with horror at the giant spider which was holding her up with its front legs by her leg… when she had shoved Cedric out of the way, the spider had caught her instead…

"Stupefy!" Tempest yelled, pointing her wand at the spider- but she could have thrown rocks for all the good it did, the blood was rushing to her head, she could hear Cedric yelling "Stupefy!" too, but his spell was no better than Tempest's, and the spider was opening its pincers…

"Incendio!" Tempest yelled, and the sound of rushing flames filled her ears as a jet of fire flew straight towards the eight black, gleaming eyes of the spider.

The spider made a high pitched chittering noise, and squealed in pain, releasing Tempest- which was the good thing. The bad thing was that Tempest heard Cedric yelling her name and then she fell twelve feet and hit the ground, her shoulder impacting with the dirt, and Tempest would have sworn she heard something crack as pain laced through her.

Tempest managed to roll over, only to see the underbelly of the spider looming over her, and without pausing to think, Tempest aimed her wand at the abdomen of the spider in the same spot that she had hit the Skrewt with, and yelled "Stupefy!" at the same time that Cedric did.

The two spells hit the spider at the same time, and they combined did what one alone did not. The spider kneeled over sideways, flattening a nearby hedge, and strewing the path with a tangle of hairy legs.

Tempest yelled in pain as one of the heavy legs fell across her.

"Tempest!" she heard Cedric shouting from a few meters away, "Are you alright? Did it fall on you?"

Tempest cursed, and tried to shove the leg off her, but then falling back with a gasp as her shoulder sent stabs of pain lancing up her back and chest. "Sort of- could you give me a hand?"

Cedric appeared around the giant mound that was the stunned spider, and he helped Tempest get up, managing to lift the leg enough for her to slide out.

Tempest sagged against a nearby hedge, she didn't even want to look at her shoulder- perhaps it was dislocated, or worse. Cedric was standing beside her, half his face illuminated by the glow of the cup. He was only a meter away from it, and Tempest was in no shape to scuffle for the cup. She wasn't even sure she wanted to anymore- all she wanted was to get out of there.

"Take it," Tempest said, gesturing with her head at the cup wearily. "Go on- you got there first… take it."

She didn't really care about winning- what use was some gold and a cup anyway? But then if she didn't win, then Bagman wouldn't be able to pay the twins back… unless of course, Tempest loaned Bagman the money- and Bagman paid the twins back… all she knew was that she didn't want the cup. Cedric deserved it.

But Cedric didn't move. He didn't walk the final few steps and take the cup, effectively winning the competition and getting the both of them out of that miserable maze. He only stood there, staring at Tempest. Then he turned to look at the cup, and in the golden light, Tempest could see the almost longing expression on his face, and then he looked back at Tempest, who was leaning heavily on the hedge to support herself, and then he took a deep breath and took a step closer to Tempest, and a step further away from the cup.

"You should take it. You deserve to win. That's what- twice you've saved my life in this maze."

Tempest shook her head tiredly. "For Merlin's sake, Cedric, just take the cup. We can both get out of here… damn your Hufflepuff loyalty! I _want_ you to get the cup- you're there, you got there first…"

Cedric was still shaking his head. "It's not fair, you told me about the dragons, I would have frozen if you hadn't told me what was coming."

"I was told myself," Tempest snorted, wincing as she tried to stand up straighter, the pain in her shoulder was lancing up and down her body and the constant stabs of pain arcing along her chest made Tempest wonder whether or not she had cracked a rib too. "I didn't find out about the dragons on my own, I had help too. You helped me on the egg anyway, so we're still square."

"I had help on my egg in the first place," Cedric said.

"It doesn't matter," Tempest sighed irritably. "We might be sort-of friends, but I won't hesitate to hex you if you don't go and take that cup and get the both of us out of here."

"Maybe that's why I'm not taking the cup," Cedric said mulishly. "You're actually stepping aside when in all fairness you should win it. You saved my neck with Krum, then saved it again with the spider-"

"I almost cursed you moments before that!"

"You weren't thinking clearly," Cedric said stubbornly. "It's not your fault."

"I'm not meant to be in this competition in the first place!" Tempest shouted, her voice sounding awfully loud in the stillness of the maze. "Could you _not_ be noble for o_nce_ and just do the selfish thing and take it?"

"You're stepping aside, though, that's pretty unselfish." Said Cedric, still not moving.

"Look, Cedric," Tempest huffed, "It comes down to this; we're both standing here, and the difference is- and don't deny it- you need to win, you want to win, and I don't."

Cedric stared at Tempest for what seemed like an age, wherein the cool wind blew past them, rustling loose leaves on the ground, and Tempest's shoulder continued to throb.

"Together." Cedric said.

"What?" Tempest asked, staring at Cedric. The world was beginning to feel rather muffled, and Tempest felt numb with cold, even though it wasn't a very cool night.

"We should take the cup together. It's a Hogwarts victory- you called me loyal- well I'm being loyal to my house, to school, and to my friend."

Tempest was speechless for a moment, her face unreadable, until eventually she pushed herself upright off the hedge. "You're serious?"

"We'll tie for it. We've helped each other though the tournament, we've both gotten to the cup at the same time, neither of us is going to back down… we should take it together."

Tempest felt a disbelieving smile creep across her face. "You really are a bloody Hufflepuff you know that?"

Cedric smiled crookedly, holding out a hand for Tempest to steady herself on as she clambered over the spider's legs towards the cup.

"I'll take it as a compliment, Tempest."

The two positioned themselves on opposite sides of the cup, both extending a hand towards one of the cup's gleaming handles.

"I meant it was one."

And together they both grasped a handle, and then with a howl of wind, Tempest felt a tug in her gut, and then her feet had left the ground, and in a whirl of colour and sound, the pair vanished from the maze.


	13. Chapter 13

C13- Graveyards and Ghosts

Tempest hit the ground, thankfully feet first, but the force of the impact made her fall sideways, and her left shoulder hit something painfully hard, side flaring with pain.

It felt like stone, and as Tempest clutched at it to regain her balance, she realized it was a gravestone.

Tempest wasn't superstitious, or afraid of the dark- much- but there was something about the overgrown graveyard that they were standing in that was decidedly sinister.

"Cedric?" Tempest asked in a strained voice, glancing around for him.

He appeared by her shoulder, eyeing the cup lying in the grass where they both must have dropped it. "Did anyone tell you it was a portkey?" he asked.

"No," Tempest said slowly. "But this can't be good. Wands out?"

Cedric nodded, and he pulled out his wand, while Tempest adjusted her grip on hers. They must have travelled for hundreds of miles with the Portkey, because even the mountains that surrounded the castle were gone- there wasn't even the faint outline of them in the distance as far as Tempest could see.

Looking around more carefully, Tempest noted that there was a yew tree to their right, and a small church was beyond that. There was a hill to their left, that rose above them with what looked like the outline of a fine house on the hillside.

"Where'd you suppose we are?" Cedric asked.

Tempest shook her head mutely. There was a tingling feeling running down her spine that had nothing to do with her shoulder, and she had the feeling that they were being watched.

"I think…" Tempest said finally, her voice little more than a breath that only Cedric could hear, "I think someone's watching us."

Cedric said nothing in reply, but Tempest could almost see his hand clenched around his wand, and his knuckles turning white. Unconsciously, the two shifted closer together, so that they were standing shoulder to shoulder.

"There," Cedric said, and Tempest, following his gaze, saw a figure drawing nearer, walking steadily towards them between the graves. Tempest couldn't make out a face in the darkness, but judging from the way that it was walking and holding its arms, she could tell it was carrying something. She was pretty sure by the build that it was a male, and he was short, wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face. And the thing he was carrying… as he drew nearer, Tempest could see that it looked rather like a baby… or just a bundle of clothing…

Tempest shifted so that she was in a more defensive position, raising her wand slightly. In any other circumstances, she would have lowered her wand- but this was different, they were in a place she didn't know, and all babies aside, she did not trust strangers who happened to wander into graveyards at night.

The figure stopped by a towering marble headstone, only six feet from them, and as Tempest levelled her wand at him, the man straightened slightly, and his hood fell back enough for Tempest to see his features.

The shocked gasp that left her lips was uncontrolled.

"Worm- Wormtail… _Peter?_"

The pale watery blue eyes met hers, and Tempest thought she almost saw an apology, but then, without warning, her head exploded in pain.

Tempest gasped and fell to the ground- it was like stabbing bolts of pain were radiating out from her scar and driving in her mind, her vision blurred and she could only see dim shapes- she could hear Cedric yelling, only her head hurt too much…

Her wand slipped out of her irresponsive fingers, and fell to the grass, and from far away, above her, she heard a cold voice say, "Kill the spare."

Tempest didn't know exactly what happened, only that the pain that drove in-between her eyes forced them open, and then her body reacted without conscious thought, and she had somehow managed to tackle Cedric, and just as she heard a voice yell two words, she collided with him, sending him to the ground, and the side of his head collided with the side of a gravestone with a sickening crack. Tempest couldn't see whether or not he was alright- the world was swimming before her eyes…

Tempest blinked through her streaming eyes at the grass beneath her. Even in the darkness the green seemed amazingly vibrant…

…and then she was being pulled to her feet by her injured arm, making her yell in pain, and before she knew it, she was being dragged towards the marble headstone.

Peter had put down the bundle, which Tempest now doubted to be clothes, lit his wand, and was dragging Tempest towards the headstone of… Tempest saw the name on it in the wand light just as she was forced around and slammed against it.

**TOM RIDDLE**

Tempest didn't have time to think about the significance of the name, as Peter was now conjuring ropes up, tying Tempest to the headstone, Tempest who was too shocked to struggle, she merely stood there as Peter finished making the ropes and began checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers fumbling over the knots.

"Peter," Tempest said, her voice hoarse and rough from pain. "Peter."

He did not reply, only when he was satisfied with the fact that Tempest could not move a single millimetre, he hurried off into the darkness.

Tempest couldn't see where he had gone, nor could she turn her head to look around, she could only see straight ahead. Her wand was lying somewhere in the grass, where she had been standing before… Cedric was lying sprawled out just ten or so meters away, completely motionless… Tempest prayed he was alright- just unconscious… Peter must have thought he was dead, otherwise he would be finishing the job…

…and it was Peter- _Peter_, the Wormtail that was part of the Marauders, who her parents had trusted enough to become their secret keeper…

She could hear him returning now, but it wasn't the only thing she could hear. She managed to look down, and almost yelled in fright. It was the gigantic snake from her dreams, only now it was only inches from her, and circling the headstone where she was tied, defenceless.

She could only be grateful that it wasn't attacking Cedric.

Peter's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder, and Tempest saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was scraping against the ground, and Tempest could hear what she supposed was water sloshing about inside. It was a huge cauldron, bigger than any cauldron Tempest had ever used, it was a great stone belly, large enough to fit a full-grown man sitting down.

"Peter!" Tempest gasped as her scar began to throb again, "Is this it? You choose Voldemort?"

The bundle of robes on the ground by Tempest's feet was now stirring, and Tempest was certain she did not want to see what was inside.

"You're a Marauder!" Tempest yelled, above the sounds of Peter, who was now doing something to the cauldron, which was now placed above a fuelless fire, making the contents of the cauldron begin to heat very fast, bubbling and spitting out fiery sparks.

"Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, _Wormtail!_ It's something to be proud of! We're family!"

"Hurry!"

The cold voice from the robes cut through Tempest's sentence, sending chills down her spine.

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now, it might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready Master."

Tempest struggled fruitlessly against the ropes. "So you call him _Master _now? You betray the Marauders- effectively kill Prongs and my mum, send Padfoot to Azkaban to rot for twelve years, leave Moony in a pit of self-blame, denial and depression for a maniac who calls himself a 'lord'?"

Tempest almost bit her own tongue off as another stab of pain hit her directly between the eyes, and Peter, to her rage and frustration ignored her completely, as the cold voice, which Tempest knew to be Voldemort's, said; "Now…"

Peter pulled open the robes on the ground, and Tempest choked as she gagged and yelled at the same time.

It was as if a stone had been flipped over and revealed something hideous, slimy and blind, something worse than anything Tempest had ever seen in books, anything that she had seen in the muggle or wizarding world. It was around the shape of a crouched human child, only Tempest had never seen something look less like a child, or anything that came within a thousand miles radius of the _thing _in the robes. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black that somehow looked like both a hunk or raw meat, and something with the skin seared off it. It's arms and legs were thin and feeble, and it's face… Tempest knew that if she somehow managed to escape alive, the horrible image of the face- flat and snakelike, with eyes that gleamed a horrible red, would forever be seared into her memory.

Tempest knew it was Voldemort.

Voldemort reduced to less than nothing- if she were free, she could have killed him herself without even using her wand… and yet Peter was helping him- helping the monster that had killed her parents, and was responsible for so many other lives that had been ruined…

Tempest's scar burnt horribly, and she had to grit her teeth to keep herself from screaming, but the only thing she could hear or see was Sirius grinning and talking about the 'Marauder years' all the pranks and fun they had gotten up to… he really was still only just a 35 year old teen inside.

"You idiot," Tempest said softly. "You bloody fool."

Peter turned to her, and Tempest swore that his expression wavered as his watery blue eyes met her own steely green, but then his eyes shifted, and he bent down, and to Tempest's disgust, he picked up the horrible thing that was Voldemort, and with an expression of revulsion on his pale face, he carried him to the rim of the cauldron and lowered him in.

Tempest bit her tongue until it bled to stop from screaming as her scar seared, and a new wave of pain crashed down over her.

Blinking furiously, and trying to see through the haze of pain, Tempest saw Peter standing by the cauldron, his wand raised.

Tempest didn't know what kind of potion was inside… she didn't know why it was so important- but she knew that nothing good was coming, not from Voldemort, and not for Peter… after all, Voldemort's animal was a snake… and snakes were manipulative, cunning and sly…

Peter was speaking now, his voice was shaking, and he seemed frightened beyond his wits. Tempest badly wanted to yell at him, scream at him to just cures Voldemort- he was in no condition to defend himself after all, but her scar was throbbing so badly Tempest thought she was about to black out… and here- in the graveyard, she did not want to be at the mercy of various unknowns.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

Tempest would have flinched backwards if she had been able to move at all, as the ground beneath her feet cracked, and a fine trickle of dust roes into the air at Peter's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The surface of the water broke, and it hissed, sending out sparks in all directions and turning a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

Tempest watched, mute as Peter seemed to break down into whimpering sobs. He pulled out a long, thin, shining dagger from inside his cloak, and his voice deteriorated into petrified stuttering.

"Flesh- of the servant- w-willingly given- you will- revive- your master."

Tempest realized a split second before Peter stretched out his right hand- the hand with the Marauder's names on it- and her voice returned to her.

"No- Peter! -don't-"

And then his left hand swung downwards, holding the knife, and Tempest did not have time to close her eyes, only to see Peter carve off his own hand, and to hear his piercing scream, and it was as if she had been stabbed with the dagger too. The sickening splash that followed almost made Tempest lose her lunch- the lunch she had had with Sirius and Remus so long ago… and the potion in the cauldron had turned a burning red, searing through Tempest's eyes…

…and then Peter was in front of her, sobbing and gasping in agony, holding the stump of his right arm to his chest, his dagger still in hand, muttering; "B-blood of the enemy… forcibly taken… you will… resurrect your foe." and Tempest had no thoughts of self-preservation, only that Peter would cut off his hand for the murderer of her parents, for the murderer of his brother, and it was disgust, pure and simple that let the next few words fall from her tongue.

"Go ahead, _Wormtail_."

She felt the icy dagger tip cut into the crook of her right arm, and blood begin to soak through her robes, and she saw Wormtail fumble about in his pocket for a glass vial, which he then held to Tempest's arm, so that some of her blood fell into it.

He staggered back to the cauldron, holding the vial in his remaining shaking hand, and poured it inside. Instantly the liquid inside turned a blinding silver, shimmering like the moon. Tempest didn't know whether or not it was meant to be that colour- she didn't understand how a colour that beautiful could mask something as horrible as Voldemort, but Wormtail seemed to be unconcerned, collapsing to the side on the cauldron, cradling his bleeding arm and gasping and sobbing… Tempest wished with a surge of uncommon vindictiveness that he would just bleed to death…

And then the cauldron suddenly began to shimmer and spark brighter than before, becoming so bright that everything else was pitch black, but nothing else was happening, and Tempest hoped to the stars that it had gone wrong- that something had gone wrong, something… anything…

Then, all of a sudden, the sparks emitting from the cauldron were extinguished, and surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron instead, blinding Tempest for a moment…

And then, out of the mist before her, with an icy sensation of terror, Tempest saw the dark outline of a man, tall- taller than her, and unbelievably thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one handed over his master's head.

The man stepped out of the cauldron, and Tempest stared with a mixture of shock and horror at the man with finely crafted features, the casual elegance of the hair that was swept back from his face… it was a man in his prime, and yet the horribly familiar scarlet eyes that stared back at her from the face of Tom Riddle Jr.

~Y._.Y~

It was Voldemort- Tempest knew that without a doubt, it may have been Tom Riddle's face that she remembered from the diary in second year, but the man in front of her was at least thirty six or so, handsome in the way that Sirius was- only that Tempest would never have compared the two- but his eyes were the same vivid red that Tempest knew Voldemort possessed….

She didn't know what she had expected him to look like, only that she had not expected him to look anything vaguely human, nor that young…

Voldemort/Riddle turned away from Tempest, and began examining his own body, his fingers were long, like a pianist's and he himself seemed almost rather surprised at his own appearance as he ran his fingers down his own chest and face- something that scared Tempest immensely. For all his youthful appearance, his eyes were still just as filled with years of malice and evil.

He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which was circling Tempest again, hissing. Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket in his robes and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at Wormtail, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Tempest was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turned his scarlet eyes upon Tempest, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Wormtail's robes were shining with blood now; he had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

"My Lord …" he choked, "my Lord … you promised … you did promise …"

Tempest wanted to yell something defiant, only that perhaps it was terror, or self-preservation that rendered her mute.

"Hold out your arm," said Voldemort lazily.

"Oh Master … thank you, Master …"

He extended the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughed again.

"The other arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please … please …"

Voldemort bent down and pulled out Wormtail's left arm; he forced the sleeve of Wormtail's robes up past his elbow, and Tempest saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo – a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth – the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark.

The pieces were coming together in Tempest's mind now- the secrets unravelling… but what use was the puzzle to her now- tied to a headstone in a graveyard with Voldemort?

Voldemort examined it carefully, seemingly deaf to Wormtail's uncontrollable sobbing.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will all have noticed it… and now, we shall see… now we shall know…"

He pressed a long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.

This time, Tempest couldn't stop the strangled gasp that escaped her lips as her head throbbed in pain and Wormtail let out a fresh howl. Voldemort removed his finger from Wormtail's mark, and Tempest saw instead of blood red- it had turned a jet black.

A look of cruel satisfaction on his almost repulsively handsome face, Voldemort straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around the dark graveyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?"

"What do you want with me?" Tempest said anger lacing her tone as she struggled fruitlessly against the ropes. If he was going to kill her- which she knew he was, that much was obvious, even to her- then why didn't he get it over with? Was he waiting for his Death eaters to witness his 'great triumph' over a fourteen year old girl who had defeated him when she was only one?

Voldemort fixed his scarlet eyes on Tempest, making her shiver with all the hate that was mixed into his gaze. "I would have thought that that much was obvious," he hissed, his voice just as snakelike despite his appearance.

"I might just be a tad slow," Tempest mocked, ignoring the burning of her scar, or the pain in her shoulder. She was going to die- yes, she was, and so what was the point of remaining silent? It might just be her insufferable pride coming into play when she had nothing left, or maybe her Gryffindor recklessness coming to the fore…

"-remind me, so here is the great Dark Lord, who goes around cursing defenceless muggles, and attempting to kill one fourteen year old girl-"

The spell hit her before she even knew it had been cast, and she screamed once, before managing to grit her teeth together, as wave after wave of pain racked every inch of her body; only this was pain as she had never felt it before. Nine years of living with the Dursleys had led to Tempest thinking that she knew pain- that it was nothing new, just a constant thing that she got used to, or didn't survive… only now nothing compared to this…. It was like having every nerve seared by a red-hot iron poker, and broiled over a slow flame, while at the same time having every limb torn off, and pegs being driven beneath her nails… It was the Cruciatus Curse, and it was all Tempest could do to keep from opening her mouth again and screaming- screaming so that her throat turned raw, and she began coughing blood…

…and then it was over, and Tempest hung limply from the ropes, a ringing in her ears, and the sound of laughter echoing around her, staring up into Voldemort's red eyes, the colours oddly muted and distant.

"Any more comments?" Voldemort asked softly.

Tempest opened her mouth- but no sound came out, her throat was dry, even though she had only screamed once, and her chest hurt badly, her mind still combating the after-effects of the curse, making her unable to form words.

Seemingly satisfied, Voldemort turned away and began to pace, his eyes sweeping the graveyard. After a while though, he turned back to Tempest, a cruel smile twisting through his face.

"You stand- Tempestas Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he said in a tone that would have made Tempest's hair stand on end, if it had not been plastered to her skull with sweat. "A Muggle and a fool… very like your dear mother…"

"My mother was a witch!" Tempest broke in, hating how her voice shook slightly from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse. "-and she was a brilliant person, and so was my father, and they were both amazing people-"

She was cut off as she was hit with the Cruciatus yet again, and when it was over, and she slumped there, held up only by the ropes, panting, Voldemort continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"-but they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child… and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death…"

"You- to compare what- I will- you sick _bastar-_"

The next Cruciatus lasted at least three minutes, three minutes in which Tempest used all her will to focus on not screaming, in which the world faded into hazy screen, and there was a screaming in Tempest's ears that she knew was not coming from her- but it pounded against her ears nevertheless… and as she writhed against the ropes, every inch of her being razed, whatever part of her mind that was not screaming itself raw was thinking of Neville's parents… tortured into insanity…

The curse was lifted, but Tempest did not realize for a moment or so, her muscles were locked in the rigid position they had been fixed in for the past few seconds, and then when they finally relaxed enough to allow movement, she realized her limbs were trembling without her control, and if she had not been bound to the headstone, she would have collapsed.

What was the point to all of this? Tempest wondered- if she would just keep her mouth shut, then perhaps he would just kill her and get it over with…

But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, Tempest knew she would never do that- never just stand down and remain silent as the monster in front of her spoke about her mother as if her sacrifice had been nothing… if she was going to die, and no matter how much pain came in-between, it would almost be like an insult to her parents, an insult to Sirius, an insult to the Longbottoms, and an insult to anyone and everyone who had suffered because of her… and she would be betraying herself- by just giving up- and she would _never_ give up. She would fight against Voldemort until the moment she died, and if possible, she would fight death itself just to defy Voldemort.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Tempest?" Voldemort continued, drawing out Tempest's name, mocking her. "My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was … He didn't like magic, my father … He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born Potter, and she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage …"

With a stroke of horror, Tempest was reminded of the Dursleys, and it was another thing she had in common with Voldemort- and she was disgusted…

"But I vowed to find him … I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name … Tom Riddle …"

An explosion interrupted him.

Tempest's eyes flashed over to the source of the sound as Voldemort whirled around. It was Cedric- Cedric who had blood pouring down the side of his head, he had somehow crept behind a headstone near the Triwizard cup, but the curse he had sent at Voldemort missed, and now the dark lord returned the assault with full fury.

Tempest felt her insides freeze with fear. She had spent so long praying that Voldemort wouldn't notice Cedric, and now, Cedric- who judging by the way he was shooting the curses- was trying to save her, and going to get killed…. And there was no way out…

"The cup!" Tempest screamed at Cedric as she saw a jet of green light miss him by a mere inch. "It's a portkey- take it back! Warn Dumbledore!"

Cedric glanced at her, shaking his head, and the next curse hit him full in the chest.

Tempest's wordless scream stuck in her throat as she stared at Cedric, who was knocked backwards. Tempest managed to take a breath as Cedric seemed fine, only winded.

"Take the cup!" Tempest yelled at Cedric, "Stop being a hero and _get_ _out_ of here!"

Voldemort slashed his wand through the air, and Tempest choked as her voice suddenly cut off.

"Tempest!" Cedric yelled, ducking as another jet of light.

_Get out of here!_ Tempest tried to yell, but no voice came out, and she watched in horror as Cedric tripped- his wand flying from his hand, his arm flinging out as he lunged for it- and then his outstretched fingertips hit the hilt of the Triwizard cup, and then- he vanished.

Tempest barely had time to let out a breath of relief as Voldemort rounded on her, his eyes almost unhinged. "Dumbledore can do nothing, girl," he hissed, "Provided your friend can give an accurate description of our location, when he arrives, you will be dead, and I gone."

Tempest swore filthily at him, but the silencing spell he must have cast rendered her mute, and before she could do more the air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. They were all apparating, all wizards by the looks of them even though they were all hooded and masked, Tempest could tell they were all male. They all moved forwards, one by one cautiously, almost as though they couldn't believe their eyes.

Tempest couldn't blame them- she had expected Voldemort to look like a snake faced, slit-nosed bastard… which he was and no amount of messed up facial features would hide it.

Then one of the Death Eaters fell to his knees, crawled toward Voldemort and kissed the hem of his black robes muttering, "Master, Master…"

If she had not been under the spell which did not allow her to make a single sound, Tempest would have probably blurted out something that would have eliminated her chances of exiting the graveyard alive by 99.99%... not that she had any chance of leaving alive in any case…

The Death Eaters behind the first did the same and each of them approached Voldemort on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle around Tom Riddle Sr's grave, Tom Riddle Jr, Tempest, and the sobbing heap that was Wormtail.

There were gaps though, Tempest noticed, as though there were more meant to be arriving- but were late.

Against it all, Tempest had to bite back a smile. If George could hear her thoughts right now (and part of her wished that he could- thereby finding a means to capture Voldemort and his Death Eaters) he would be complaining about typical Tempest, retaining her sense of humour even when facing almost eminent death.

Voldemort however, did not seem to be expecting more people to arrive, he merely looked around at the hooded faces, and although Tempest- whose senses were on edge- could tell there was no wind, it was as if a wind had blown through the circle, and all of them had shivered.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Voldemort quietly. "Thirteen years … thirteen years since last we met. Yet you answer my call as though it were yesterday, we are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

His eyes flickered around the circle, and he drew in a heavy breath- and it occurred to Tempest, that even though his features were just as handsome as Sirius's, she had never seen a more hideous face.

"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to step back from him.

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact – such prompt appearances! And I ask myself … why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Wormtail, who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered Riddle, "they must have believed me broken, they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment … And then I ask myself, but how could they have believed I would not rise again? They, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death?"

_Steps?_

Tempest shifted a millimetre, knowing it was foolish seeing as her death was probably looming closer and closer, but the edge of the headstone was digging into her side and perhaps it was merely her, but her ropes seemed to have loosened a fraction… Her right wrist was most definitely looser than before… she could almost pull it free…

"…they, who had seen proof of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living? And I answer myself-"

_You've said that how many times?_ Tempest muttered soundlessly, trying to twist her wrist free, but at the same time without attracting attention to herself.

"-perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist, one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort… perhaps they now pay allegiance to another… perhaps that champion of commoners, of Mudbloods and Muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads.

Riddle ignored them. "It is a disappointment to me … I confess myself disappointed …"

One of the men suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Riddle's feet. "Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

"Idiot." Tempest said, still under the silencing spell, just as Riddle's Cruciatus hit the man.

The Death Eater writhed and screamed, but Tempest couldn't find a shred of pity in her- she had been through the same three times, and her pity was pretty much void at the moment.

Riddle raised his wand. The tortured Death Eater lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," said Riddle softly. "Stand up. You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen long years … I want thirteen years' repayment before I forgive you. Wormtail here has paid some of his debt already, have you not, Wormtail?" He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

Tempest was wordless then, not a single retort entering her mind as she stared at Wormtail, sobbing and whimpering on the ground. Was she stupid enough to think that perhaps he could help her at all? After all he had done?

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "please. Master … please …"

Tempest felt her stomach, which had crept up into her throat, plummet back down until it landed somewhere near her feet. Of course he couldn't change- anyone who could barefacedly betray their friends and family was long gone…

"Yet you helped return me to my body," said Riddle coolly, watching Wormtail sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me … and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers …"

Riddle raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight, which soared downward and fixed itself upon Wormtail's bleeding wrist.

Wormtail's sobbing stopped abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers, then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

His expression was so rapt that the last of her hope that Wormtail could be redeemed went out the window. Nothing but a little cowardly rat…

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master … it is beautiful … thank you … thank you …"

He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Riddle's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail," said Riddle.

"No, my Lord … never, my Lord …"

_His name is Tom Riddle!_ Tempest yelled, _not some kind of self-acclaimed 'Lord'…_

Wormtail stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears. Riddle now approached the man on Wormtail's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him.

Tempest's head wrenched against the ropes as she jerked. She didn't know why she was so shocked… she _knew_ Draco's father was a death eater… she knew what those two words entailed… but the _idea_ of him being there…

It wasn't even as if it meant anything to Lucius Malfoy- she was just the girl that his son had played, and then dumped. Even if she was 'the-girl-who-lived' that term wasn't likely to apply at the end of the night.

"I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of Muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius … Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay … but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood, and Tempest's fists clenched automatically (or at least, her free hand did, her other hand was pinned against her side, unmovable). Draco's voice was so _similar_ to his fathers, it could almost have been him, his cold blue eyes gleaming from behind the mask…

"Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me -"

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" said Riddle lazily, and Malfoy Sr stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius … You have disappointed me … I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course … You are merciful, thank you …"

Riddle moved on, but as he stopped by the empty space the separated Malfoy and the next man, Tempest saw Malfoy's eyes flash to her, and then away, then back, and away… almost as if he was trying to tell her something… What on earth would he want to say to her?

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Riddle quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me … When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honoured beyond their dreams. The dementors will join us … they are our natural allies … we will recall the banished giants … I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear …"

"Whom all _rational_ creatures fear- as you obviously don't…"

Riddle walked on. Some of the Death Eaters he passed in silence, but he paused before others and spoke to them.

"Macnair … destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide …"

"Thank you, Master … thank you," murmured Macnair.

"And here" – Riddle moved on to the two largest hooded figures – "we have Crabbe … you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master …"

"We will, Master …"

"The same goes for you, Nott," said Riddle quietly as he walked past a stooped figure in Goyle's shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you, I am your most faithful -"

"That will do," said Riddle.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there.

"And here we have six missing Death Eaters … three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return … he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever … he will be killed, of course … and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already re-entered my service."

The Death Eaters stirred, and Tempest was distracted from trying to interpret Malfoy's glances and saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight …"

Tempest's eyes cut to Riddle again, his face curved into a horrible smile. "Yes," he said as all the eyes of the circle fell on Tempest- Malfoy's included, his eyes cold and blank again.

"Tempest Potter has kindly joined us for my re-birthing party. One might go so far as to call her my guest of honour."

It took all of her self-preservation to remain silent as Riddle and the Death Eaters regarded her.

Then Malfoy stepped forwards, and his voice came from under the mask.

"Master, we crave to know … we beg you to tell us … how you have achieved this … this miracle … how you managed to return to us …"

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Riddle. "And it begins – and ends – with my young friend here."

Tempest was stuck between fear, disgust, and confusion- she didn't know whether or not Malfoy was trying to tell her anything that would help, and she didn't know that even if he was trying to help her, the question was- _why?_

Riddle walked lazily over to stand next to Tempest, who tried to edge away, but only her wrist was free… and right now, that didn't seem like much use… the eyes of the entire circle were on the both of them, while the snake- Nagini continued circling.

"You know, of course, that they have called this girl my downfall?" Riddle said softly, his red eyes on Tempest, whose scar began to burn so fiercely that she almost bit her tongue through to keep from screaming. "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill her. Her mother died in the attempt to save her – and unwittingly provided her with a protection I admit I had not foreseen … I could not touch the girl."

Riddle raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Tempest's cheek.

"Get away from me," Tempest hissed, the silencing spell breaking suddenly, but Riddle ignored her. "Her mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice … This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it …but no matter. I can touch her now."

Tempest felt the unnervingly cold tip of his finger touch her face, and the world turned a blinding white as her head throbbed in pain. Riddle laughed softly in her ear, then turned away to address the Death Eaters once again.

_I need my wand…_

Tempest flexed her fingers of her right hand- if she _just_ had her wand, then she could cast either a Slicing hex or a Reductor curse to get herself out of the rest of the ropes, and then… what? Fight off around thirty or so Death Eaters and Riddle himself, then supposing she even managed to do so- how would she get away? It was a muggle town, the Triwizard cup portkey was gone- and Tempest felt a wave of relief that Cedric had managed to get away- and she didn't know how to apparate…

But even so, if the result was going to be the same- her dead- then it couldn't really hurt anymore to try, could it?

It was an odd thing, knowing she was going to die and that there was nothing she could do about it… death wasn't really that bad was it? Come to think of it, Tempest wasn't even remotely afraid of being killed, she was more afraid of Riddle's Cruciatus, and she was more afraid of seeing people she cared about killed… her dying wasn't that bad, maybe she could see her parents again- didn't some say that when you died you got to see those who went before you?

What about what she left behind though?

It occurred to her then that she had to find a way to tell the world that Voldemort/Riddle was back, she had to find a cure for Neville's parents… and Tempest wasn't exactly wallowing in her own self-worth the way Riddle was, but if she did, Sirius would be devastated, Remus the same, and all her friends…

Tempest shoved the thoughts out of her mind, she had to concentrate… wandless magic, she had read a few books about it in the Room of Requirement with Sirius, she knew the theory sort of, but she the times she had tried it, it had never worked… _Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand…_

"-to get at Tempest Potter? For she has been better protected than I think even she knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to arrange the girl's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the girl's protection as long as she is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch her there…"

_Wrong_, Tempest said snidely inside her own mind, _I've been out of the care of my relations for a very long time by now._

"Then of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup… I thought her protection might be weaker there, away from her relations and Dumbledore, but I was not yet strong enough to attempt kidnap in the midst of a horde of Ministry Wizards. And then, the girl would return to Hogwarts, where she is under the crooked nose of that Muggle-loving fool from morning until night. So how could I take her?"

_Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand… Accio wand... Accio wand… Accio wand…_

"Why… by using Bertha Jorkins's information, of course. Using my one faithful Death Eater, stationed at Hogwarts, to ensure that the girl's name was entered into the Goblet of Fire. Using my Death Eater to ensure that the girl won the tournament- that she touched the Triwizard Cu first- the cup which my Death Eater had turned into a Portkey, which would bring her here, beyond the reach of Dumbledore's help and protection-"

And then it clicked.

It was like something had fallen into her mind, or out of her mind, depending on perspective, but Tempest could _remember._

The memory charm, after the prefect's bathroom- it was _Moody._ Or rather, someone Polyjuiced as Moody- and the Marauder's map had said 'Bartemius Crouch', only it wasn't Crouch Sr… Crouch Jr, who _was_ a Death Eater was Polyjuiced as Moody, and she had spent the entire year in his class… and no-one but she knew that he was the spy… and she had no way of telling Dumbledore…

"-and here she is… the girl you all believed to have been my downfall…."

He turned to face Tempest. He raised his wand.

_Accio wand!_

Tempest's wand flew to her hand, and then the next moment she was on the ground, not fully comprehending how she had actually _managed_ to wordlessly and wandlessly summon her wand, then wordlessly cut through her ropes, only knowing that Riddle had yelled "Crucio," and the beam of red light had soared right at the spot where she had been only a split second ago, missing the top of her head by a hair, and then she hit the ground, and ignoring the pain in her left shoulder, she threw herself to the side as another jet of light shot at her.

A slow handclap made Tempest scramble to her feet, her hand clenched around her wand, back to the headstone, eyeing the slowly clapping Riddle with apprehension.

"Impressive," Riddle said, and then before she knew it, another Cruciatus was sent at her, and instantly, for the fourth time that night, Tempest was wracked with pain, only this time it was worse, because there were spectators, and she knew that Riddle was enjoying himself, and she could hear the laughter…

And then she was lying on the ground, the grass in her face, panting, listening to the Death Eaters and Riddle laughing, miraculously though, her hand was still clenched around her wand.

"Stupefy!" she yelled, her voice surprisingly steady considering her entire frame was trembling.

Riddle deflected the spell with a lazy flick of his wand as Tempest managed to get to her feet, considering running for it. With all the gravestones she would be able to avoid most of the spells sent at her, and then perhaps she would be able to break into a muggle house and call… she didn't know anyone who could help her who owned a telephone.

"I trust you know how to duel?" Riddle was asking, confusing Tempest immensely. As far as she knew, a duel was when two wizards (or witches, or a mixture of the two) threw spells at each other until one ended up unable to continue- or dead. But why…

"It is foolish to suppose how this girl could ever have been stronger than me," Riddle was saying to the Death Eaters, though he was still facing Tempest, his red eyes fixed on her. "So I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Tempestas Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And I am now going to prove my power by killing her, here and now, in front of you all, where there is no Dumbledore to help her, no mother to die for her… I will give her his chance. She will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger. Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered to the snake, and it glided away through the grass to where the Death Eaters were standing.

Tempest didn't know what to think. It was easier before, when she had accepted the fact that she was about to die, and that she had no hope, only now she had a reason to get out of there alive, no matter how unlikely the chances- she had to warn Dumbledore about Crouch Jr… hopefully Cedric had warned Dumbledore about Voldemort… and she was facing Riddle.

"_Have _you been taught who to duel, Potter?" Riddle asked, pacing closer, "If not, then perhaps I should help you… first we bow to each other, Tempest," Riddle said, bending a little at the waist, but never shifting his gaze from Tempest. "Come, the niceties must be observed… Dumbledore would like you to show manners… bow to death, Tempest… and then stand upright… just like your father died…"

He was toying with her, just like Nyx liked to do with the stray dust particles on sunny days, but she would not give him the satisfaction… never… if she could anger him though, he could make a mistake, as unlikely as it seemed…

"You are not death," Tempest said, her voice much clearer in the night air, stronger even, much more confident than she felt. If indeed the night ended with the death of the girl-who-lived, she'd sooner die having irritated _Lord _Voldemort, than die purposelessly. "If death were indeed a person, which it's not, then it would most certainly not be you of all people-"

The laughter of the Death Eaters had faded, and Riddle's face was wearing an ugly expression in the moonlight.

"-because well, death wouldn't need to prove to anyone that he or she was worthy by killing a fourteen year old girl-"

"Crucio!"

It seemed like a thousand eternities that Tempest struggled not to scream, her teeth gritted and her mind yelling for it to stop- to just abandon pride and beg for it to stop- only she wouldn't, she wouldn't ever give in, even if the idea seemed so tempting… if she gave in the end result would be the same, and it would be well worth it if she could humiliate him before he snapped and stopped toying with her…

When the curse was lifted, the absence of the curse being used felt almost blissful, until the aftermath hit her, and she stumbled sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters. She caught a glimpse of icy blue eyes and silver hair, and then she was shoved back towards Riddle.

"Anymore last words?" Riddle mocked, "A Gryffindor to the last?"

Tempest's mouth twisted. "Not all Gryffindors." She said, her voice only shaking slightly as her eyes cut over to the mass of Death Eaters where she knew one particular Gryffindor stood, watching.

"I suppose they all know they're all bowing and kissing the feet of a half-bl-"

_Now_ Tempest screamed as the Cruciatus hit her, pain searing through her for the seventh time. She had not screamed before, only now the image of Peter kissing Riddle's robes was in her mind, and the pair of icy blue eyes of Malfoy Sr reminded her of Draco, and it was almost like he was there, just standing there, laughing while she screamed…

And then it stopped. Tempest rolled over, every inch of her flaring with pain, a curious haze settling around her mind as she stood shakily. _Just let it be over…_

"A little break," said Riddle, his voice deadly quiet while his eyes still gleamed with sadistic glee. "a little pause… That hurt, didn't it Tempest? Perhaps next time you should consider bowing… nevertheless, you don't want me to do that to you again, do you?" He smiled, the expression twisting itself gruesomely across his handsome face. "Perhaps, if you beg, I might just make your death quick…"

Tempest stared at him, refusing to answer. No amount of pain would _ever_ make her stoop that low…

"Why don't you just beg?" Riddle said softly, almost condescendingly as he levelled his wand at Tempest. "Imperio!"

The world had turned into soft clouds, and she was lying on a hillside, the sun streaming down on her, it was bliss, no worries, just floating there…

_…just ask him to stop… how hard can it be? Just get on your knees and ask him to stop… Just get on your knees and ask him to stop…_

_Why?_ Another voice asked in Tempest's head, _Why should I?_

It sounded almost like Sirius, or Remus… and then Minnie…

_…just ask him to stop…_

_The only way that's ever going to happen is when you're a pile of ashes and I'm dancing on them…_

Strange, the voice was now Ron's… then Hermione's…. then George's… then Draco's…

_…just get on your knees and ask him to stop…_

_"Screw you- and get out of my head!"_

And then the voice was her own, and it was her own sarcastic and slightly cynical voice, and then the curse broke, and it was like being thrown out of a sauna into the arctic ocean, naked. All of the aches and tremors from the Cruciatus curse rushed back, the realization of where she was and what was happening…

"You won't? You won't ask for it to end?" Riddle laughed sardonically. "Tempest, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you die… that and when it Is appropriate to talk to your elders…"

"First of all- Free country. Second of all- you're sixty five, old man, perhaps it's time to consider retirement from being a playground bully."

The Death Eaters were deadly silent, something Tempest found oddly ironic, and she could see it forming on Riddle's face-

-she dived to the side as the curse smashed into the headstone of his father, and the ducked behind another towering gravestone. _This was it_. As clichéd and ominous as the words sounded, it was true. Only three inches of stone were protecting her from the end of her fourteen years, nine months and twenty four days and approximately nineteen hours.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Tempest," said Riddle's soft, cold voice, drawing nearer, as the Death Eaters laughed. "You cannot hide from me."

"I'm not hiding you idiot," Tempest replied, "I just ducked you attempt to kill me, as any rational being would."

So this was how she was going to die, insulting a dictatorial literal bastard as a last resort… then she shrugged, making her shoulder twinge. At least she was going to die the same way her parents did, she would die standing against Riddle, and pissing him off as best she was able. Not a bad way to die, she thought.

Then she stood up, gripping her wand like a lifeline, which it was partly, and whirled around the gravestone, her wand in front of her and she yelled out a spell which came to her as easily as breathing, the first spell she had ever learnt, a spell which was a familiar to her as her own name in fact…

"Tempestas!"

"Avada Kevdavra!"

Tempest only had time to think of two words one beginning with 'I'm', and the other with 'dead' at the insufficiency of her spell in comparison to the killing curse just as a blast of red light flew from Riddle's wand and a jet of blue from her own, and the two met in mid-air-

-and suddenly Tempest's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge was surging through it and her hand seized up around it; she couldn't have let go even if she'd wanted to- and then a burst of golden light connected the two wands.

Tempest followed the beam of light with her eyes and saw to her amazement that Riddle's long fingers were gripping a wand that was shaking just as much as hers… and then suddenly to her everlasting astonishment, she felt her feet lift from the ground.

They were being lifted into the air- her and Riddle, their wands still connected by the golden light. They glided away from the gravestones and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves…

The Death Eaters were running after them, shouting at Riddle for instructions, forming the circle around the two of them again, some of them drawing their wands…. a thousand more beams arced high over Tempest and Riddle, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now …

"Do nothing!" Riddle shrieked to the Death Eaters, "Do nothing unless I tell you!" and Tempest saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with Tempest's…

Tempest didn't know what the gold light was doing, only that it had prevented Riddle from killing her, therefore she wasn't likely to want it to break-

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air … It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Tempest and Riddle. It was a sound Tempest recognized, though she had heard it only once before in her life: phoenix song.

It was the sound of hope to Tempest… a beautiful and welcoming thing that seemed to radiate from inside of her instead of around her… it was the sound of freedom and days spent in the golden sunshine or moonlit nights by the Black Lake with her friends…

_Don't break the connection._

"What'd you think? I'm not likely to," Tempest said, half-laughing, but just as she did, it became much harder to do. Her wand was vibrating much more powerfully than before, and the beam of light between her and Riddle changed too- it was as if beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands, and they were slowly and steadily moving down towards her end. The closer they slid, the more her wand vibrated, and the hilt of her wand heated up until it was almost burning into her hand- and she knew she did not want them to get any closer- not at all…

Tempest focused on the beads of the light, _willing_ the beads to move away, _away_ to Riddle's side- and it was working, the phoenix song was singing _through _her, and her eyes were fixed on the beads of light… and then slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then began to move the other way… and now, filled with furious victory, Tempest watched the beads edge down to Riddle's end- and then… one connected.

Instantly, Riddle's wand began to emit echoing screams of pain… then- Riddle's red eyes widened with shock- a dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished… the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail… then there were more shouts of pain… and then something much larger began to blossom from Riddle's wand tip, a great greyish something, something that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke… it was a head… now a chest and arms… it was the torso of an old man who looked vaguely familiar… it was the old man she had seen once in a dream- a man Riddle had killed… it looked like it was squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel… and the shade of the man stood up, looked at Tempest, and then at Riddle.

"So he was a real wizard then?" the man said, "Killed me he did… he's no lord, I tell you- you fight him girl…"

The voice was distant and echoing, and Tempest looked at Riddle, but his eyes were shocked, and he was not expecting this anymore than Tempest was, and that comforted her slightly…

But already, yet another head was emerging … and this head, gray as a smoky statue, was a woman's … Tempest's arms were shaking now as she fought to keep her wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the man, staring …

It was Bertha Jorkins.

Tempest had never met the woman, nor seen her before, but she knew that she was dead, killed by Riddle.

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed like the man's as though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Tempest – don't let go!"

She and the other shadowy figure began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the Death Eaters flitted around the outside of it …and Riddle's dead victims whispered as they circled the duellers, whispered words of encouragement to Tempest, and hissed words Tempest couldn't hear to Riddle. And now another head was emerging from the tip of Riddle's wand … and Tempest swallowed as she saw the smoky head and shoulders, because she knew who would be next, someone who she had never met before, and yet was one of the two single people she had wanted to meet most in her entire life… The smoky shadow of a young woman with long hair fell to the ground as Bertha had done, straightened up, and looked at her, and Tempest's throat closed up.

The first time she met her mother- and she was surrounded by Death Eaters and duelling Riddle.

"Your father's coming …" she said quietly. "Hold on for your father … it will be all right… hold on…"

"Mom- I-"

And he came … first his head, then his body … tall and untidy-haired just like Tempest, the smoky, shadowy form of James Potter blossomed from the end of Riddle's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like his wife. He walked over to Tempest with Lily, and spoke in the same echoing voice as the others.

"Tempest, you have to get out of the graveyard," James Potter said, his voice distant, but his eyes fixed on hers.

"There's no way out," Tempest gasped, both hands clenched around the hilt of her wand. "The Cup is gone-"

"Your patronus," Lily said, stepping closer to Tempest. "It'll lead you on."

"What do you mean?" Tempest asked, "I don't-"

"Trust us," James said, reaching out as if to place a hand on Tempest's shoulder, only to stop an inch from it. "Once you break the connection, we can linger for a moment and hold him off for you-"

"But-"

"We are so proud of you, Temper- just remember who you can and can't trust. You have to break the connection."

"Do it now," whispered Lily, "be ready to run … do it now …"

"Mom- Dad…"

…and Tempest yanked his wand away with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke, the cage of light vanished, and the phoenix song died, but the shadowy figures of Riddle's victims did not disappear, and they closed in upon Riddle… shielding Tempest from his gaze..

…and Tempest ran, stunning two Death Eaters and then knocking them aside as she ran back into the maze of headstones, ducking the curses that sailed above her head.

"Stun her!" she heard Riddle scream.

Tempest could see the tall metal spiked fence surrounding the edge of the graveyard, and she sprinted towards the gates that she could see standing open, except there was a stretch of empty grass until the gates, and she could see the Death Eaters approaching from behind her…

She drew her wand, slashing it in front of her, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

The silver stallion burst from her wand tip and galloped before her, Tempest didn't know how it was meant to help, but she was only twenty feet from the gate, then fifteen… and then something tripped her and she fell.

"Bloody hell! Snake… -Stupefy!"

Tempest kicked out at the snake, but it was too heavy, and now it was inching up her legs, the weight pinning her down while the death eaters drew closer.

"Reducto! Impedimenta! Stupefy! Incendio! Stupefy!" Tempest threw spell after spell at the snake, but all glanced off harmlessly… there was something _wrong_ about the snake… "Tempestas!"

The indirect spell affected the snake unlike all the others, and the snake was knocked backwards, letting Tempest scramble to her feet, ducking a curse that missed her by an inch.

She threw a stream of curses behind her back towards the Death Eaters, wildly inventing spells, and hexes, and she was rewarded with several cries and screams from the Death Eaters as some of the headstones blew up, and the sickening snap as some of her blasting curses caught them… and the gate was drawing closer…

…and then something hissed behind her, and she whirled around just at the gate to see the glint of snake fangs before Nagini hit her, and Tempest was knocked to the ground, a yell escaping her throat as the snake sunk it's fangs into her right arm, and landed on her chest. Tempest gasped in pain as she heard something snap, and she prayed it wasn't a rib.

She had had the Cruciatus used on her seven times that night, but the feeling of snake teeth in her arm still made her want to black out.

"Get-off-me!" Tempest said behind gritted teeth, the snake was wrapped around her chest now, slowly constricting, and her air was being cut off- stars were swimming behind her eyes, and she heard more cracks…

…and then suddenly the snake was gone, and a hand was gripping her injured arm painfully tight, and pulling her _out _of the graveyard, and her patronus was standing there, and then, without warning, the stallion charged towards Tempest, and passing straight through her, Tempest was filled with conviction.

The person holding her arm released it and Tempest only caught a glimpse of silver as she whirled around, and vanished with a snap from the graveyard, the screams of Riddle echoing the land for miles.

~Y._.Y~

Tempest slammed into the ground, the wind knocked from her lungs, her shoulder yanking further out of its socket and her ribs impacting with the dirt making her want to pass out… and she couldn't- she didn't know how she had managed to apparate for the first time in her life, she didn't know how she had somehow managed to escape Riddle and the snake, she didn't know whether for the first time she could remember she had spoken to her parents, she couldn't remember correctly whether or not Wormtail had saved her life, she didn't even know where she was… but all that she could think about, was that part of her was missing.

The world was swimming before her eyes but even with her warped vision she could still see the huge hunk of flesh carved out of her left arm and the gaping hole in it…

A great way to die- to escape death, and then to bleed to death on a road… on a road by an oddly familiar building with a sign with a hog's head on it…

Then there was the deafening sound of a door slamming open, and then someone grabbed her shoulder- her dislocated shoulder, and Tempest passed out.


	14. Chapter 14

C14- Shit happens, then you move on.

"Where's Tempest?"

Hermione shook her head, "_I don't know_ Ron!"

"Where's Tempest?"

"_I don't know_ George!"

"Where's Tempest?"

"_I DON'T KNOW_ Fred!"

"Where. Is. Tempest?"

"_I. DON'T. KNOW _George, I just said-"

Hermione was knocked backwards as George leapt to his feet with a yell.

"The bloody git! Diggory's got the cup!" George swore, standing on the bench and ignoring the look Hermione was giving him as she sat back up.

"That blasted, tall prat!" Fred continued, leaping up on the bench beside George. "He _won_! George- where's my wand- why the bloody hell do you have it anyway- let me just curse that blasted Hufflepuff-"

"Your wand's in your pocket, dumbass." George said, "-and where's Tempest? _You_-" he turned and stared at Hermione, "you said that when someone got the cup that all the champions would get apparated out of the maze!"

"You listened?" Hermione asked, shocked.

"Yeah, well, it's… it's _Tempest_- of course I listened…" George blinked and glanced sideways at his twin as if just realizing that his two brothers, sister, friend, and mother, were staring at him.

"In any case," George hurried on, "what I meant- is, where. Is. She? Krum's been pulled out, I don't know what happened to him- sorry Hermione- that prat- and Delacour too- so- Tempest! -Again- Where. Is. She?"

"Fred dear- I'm sure she's fine, maybe Minerva's gone to get her-"

"Mum, I'm George! -and as much as it pains me to admit it, but Hermione's never wrong!"

Hermione blushed slightly, and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the arrival of Remus and Sirius.

"Where's Tempest?"

"For the last time- I DO NOT KNOW!" Hermione said loudly, her face uncharacteristically frustrated. "Siri- Snuffles, Monty, I don't know, we should ask Professor McGonagall what's going on-"

"Great idea!" Sirius said, "C'mon, Mo-Monty- I want to talk to Dumbledore too while we're at it."

"Snuffles, wait!" Remus sighed as he followed Sirius down the stands.

Fred glanced at his twin then shrugged. "Yeah, c'mon, at least we know Tempest got out of there alive… Diggory's got the cup, yeah, but _you_ seem to care more about Tempest than our money-" He threw George a disgusted look which George missed, staring at Cedric.

"Diggory doesn't look too good, Fred, he looks like his head is cracked in two, and he seems to be having some kind of panic attack- look, Dumbledore's there and everything-"

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, almost strangling Fred as she climbed up onto the bench with the aid of grabbing hold of Fred's robes. "What do you mean?"

"What I just said! I'm going down there," George said, ignoring the exclamations of concern from his mother.

~Y._.Y~

"…her right shoulder is dislocated, three shattered ribs and five bruised, -her arm, I put some dittany on it, she probably splinched-"

Tempest opened her eyes with a groan, every inch of her aching like she had been trampled over by a hippogriff while the disturbingly familiar smell of disinfectant and too-clean bed sheets pervaded her senses.

_The hospital wing?_

"I hope you lot aren't talking about me," Tempest said blinking, trying to make the ten roughly human shaped blurs standing over her solidify.

"Yes, we were just declaring our undying love for you," said a voice which Tempest recognized to be Sirius's.

"Well I was just unconscious- not the best timing."

"Oh we were just practicing," she heard Sirius's voice say.

"How's it coming then?"

"Quite well actually… hang on- here we go, oh dearest Tempest, to what shall I compare thee? Like emeralds are thine eyes-"

"-and what light from yonder window falls across your raven locks which break any brush or comb which attempts to tame-"

"I hate to interrupt your childish banter, but _if_ we could return to the matter at hand-"

Tempest sat up, gritting her teeth as her ribs twinged painfully and the world swam alarmingly. Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, Minnie, George, Fred, Ron, Hermione, Madame Pomfrey and Snape were standing around her bed, all with concerned expressions on their faces with the exception of Snape, who was wearing his signature sneer which made Tempest want to flop back down, roll over, and burry her face in her too-soft pillows.

And then it hit her.

"Moody!" she gasped, "Moody!"

"Professor Moody is currently with Mr Diggory, the events of what he said transpired in the graveyard-" Dumbledore began, making Tempest turn to him.

"No, no, you don't get it- the spy, the spy's Moody! Barty Crouch Jr- he's Polyjuiced as Moody- Riddle- he's not dead, Cedric's in danger- someone needs to find them, he's dangerous! Me and Hermione, that night that Sna- Professor Snape found me and her in the hallway, Crouch obliviated us! He's probably the one that took the map…"

The hospital wing broke into a pandemonium as everyone began talking at once.

"But the boy's dead!" Mrs Weasley gasped, her hands over her mouth.

"How'd he get out of jail?" Ron asked, "I mean, if he's not dead- wasn't he in Azkaban?"

"So the swine was guilty after all," Tempest heard Sirius say darkly.

Tempest saw Dumbledore, Minnie, Snape and Remus hurry out of the room to find Crouch most likely, and she hoped there got in time. She didn't know whether or not Crouch would hurt Cedric- but Cedric had seen Riddle and therefore knew too much- and with him at Crouch's mercy…

"How long was I out anyway?" Tempest asked George. "I just remember crashing to the ground and seeing a huge hole in my arm-"

"Oh yeah about that!" George said, "I have a bone to pick with you Hedgy, you apparate before me and Fred have even got our licences! Sure you carve yourself up into a bloody mess in the process, but still!"

Tempest sighed. "Just answer the question."

Hermione decided to pipe in. "You weren't actually out for long at all, Tempest. Cedric came beck, he looked _awful-_ there was blood pouring down his face and everything! In any case, I don't know what happened next, but when I got there, I saw a great big silver horse standing by Dumbledore, and it looked like it was speaking- yelling something, and it was _your_ voice, Tempest! You swore quite a bit, and then you said something about a snake? And then the horse faded away, and then a goat appeared and it told Dumbledore you were outside the Hogs Head! When they got back with you, you looked _horrible_, you were covered in blood and I thought you were dead!"

Hermione's voice slipped on the last word and she choked back a sob and flung herself at Tempest, hugging her fiercely around the neck, making Tempest gasp for air as her windpipe was blocked off.

Tempest patted Hermione awkwardly on the back. "Thanks Hermione- but I still am primarily concerned with _how long I have been here_."

"Just a few hours, it's around four in the morning now," Sirius sighed, "the tournament's in tatters. There's the thing with Krum, the Delacour girl is crying continuously, and won't tell anyone what's wrong- people are saying Diggory's mental because of his breakdown, and then you vanished completely only to turn up in Hogsmead! Fudge is doing in his head trying to figure it all out."

They were interrupted as the doors to the hospital wing slammed open, and Dumbledore, Snape and Remus entered the room dragging Moody behind them, Minnie pointing her wand at the man, she was obviously shaking, but Tempest could see her arm was quite steady.

Moody/Crouch was struggling violently, his wooden leg kicking uselessly and his glass eye was askew slightly. Cedric was following, his hair mussed and he looked decidedly ruffled and he too was clutching his wand, but as soon as he saw Tempest he gave her a smile that was both relieved and tired.

"Alright Tempest?"

"Couldn't be better," Tempest replied cynically, her eyes on Crouch who was snarling and spitting and looked quite animalistic still Polyjuiced as Moody. Snape and Remus forced Crouch down into a chair near Tempest's bed and then Dumbledore rounded on him while Remus pinned Crouch to the chair.

"Severus, your strongest vial of Vertaserium if you please," Dumbledore said to Snape, who seemed to draw the bottle from thin air and then he shoved it into Dumbledore's hand.

Dumbledore uncorked the bottle and forced the contents down Crouch's throat.

"Now, are you Professor Alastor Moody, or not?" Dumbledore said, and Tempest was shocked at the icy look in his eyes and the coldness that seemed to radiate out of him.

Crouch's jaw worked for a few seconds, then he replied.

"No."

"Are you then, Bartemius Crouch Jr?"

"Yes."

And then Tempest didn't know whether or not it was the Vertaserium, but the scarred face of Moody shifted, and then suddenly began to shrink. The lines smoothed over and vanished, the hair began growing backwards into his skull and lightening, the wooden leg fell with a clunk to the ground, and Moody's bright blue eye popped out of the socket and rolled down to the floor, and Tempest stared straight into the brown eyes of Barty Crouch Jr.

Dumbledore didn't seem to be in the least bit deterred. "How did you get out of Azkaban?"

Crouch took a deep breath, his now-straw coloured hair hanging lank in front of his face. "My mother saved me. She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother's hairs. She took a draft of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other's appearance."

Mrs Weasley was shaking her head, sobbing quietly into Ron's shoulder while he patted his mother awkwardly on the back. Hermione looked sick.

"The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their doors.

"My mother died a short while afterward in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me."

"And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?" said Dumbledore quietly.

"Staged my mother's death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father had to use a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I thought only of finding my master … of returning to his service."

Sirius, who was clenching Tempest 's hand so hard she was beginning to lose circulation in it, jerked violently, and his expression became cold and remote.

"How did your father subdue you?" said Dumbledore.

"The Imperius Curse," Moody said. "I was under my father's control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behaviour."

"Did anybody ever discover that you were still alive?" said Dumbledore softly. "Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?"

"Yes," said Crouch, his eyelids flickering. "A witch in my father's office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father s signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. My father arrived home. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she'd found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently."

"Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup," said Dumbledore.

"Winky talked my father into it," said Crouch, still in the same monotonous voice. "She spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. He agreed in the end.

"It was carefully planned. My father led me and Winky up to the Top Box early in the day. Winky was to say that she was saving a seat for my father. I was to sit there, invisible. When everyone had left the box, we would emerge. Winky would appear to be alone. Nobody would ever know.

"But Winky didn't know that I was growing stronger. I was starting to fight my father's Imperius Curse. There were times when I was almost myself again. There were brief periods when I seemed outside his control. It happened, there, in the Top Box. It was like waking from a deep sleep. I found myself out in public, in the middle of the match, and I saw, in front of me, a wand sticking out of a boy's pocket."

Tempest glanced at Ron who blushed hotly. She had _just_ handed her wand to Ron so she should lean out of the box to yell at the Veela- and then her wand had vanished- that was why apparently… and she had spent hours yelling at Ron when it had been Crouch all along! Tempest herself as a general rule, kept her wand up her sleeve, not in her pocket…

"-I had not been allowed a wand since before Azkaban. I stole it. Winky didn't know. Winky is frightened of heights. She had her face hidden."

"So you took the wand," said Dumbledore, "and what did you do with it?"

"We went back to the tent," said Crouch. "Then we heard them. We heard the Death Eaters. The ones who had never been to Azkaban. The ones who had never suffered for my master. They had turned their backs on him. They were not enslaved, as I was. They were free to seek him, but they did not. They were merely making sport of Muggles. The sound of their voices awoke me. My mind was clearer than it had been in years. I was angry. I had the wand. I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty to my master. My father had left the tent; he had gone to free the Muggles. Winky was afraid to see me so angry. She used her own brand of magic to bind me to her. She pulled me from the tent, pulled me into the forest, away from the Death Eaters. I tried to hold her back. I wanted to return to the campsite. I wanted to show those Death Eaters what loyalty to the Dark Lord meant, and to punish them for their lack of it. I used the stolen wand to cast the Dark Mark into the sky."

Ministry wizards arrived. They shot Stunning Spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees where Winky and I stood. The bond connecting us was broken. We were both Stunned.

"When Winky was discovered, my father knew I must be nearby. He searched the bushes where she had been found and felt me lying there. He waited until the other Ministry members had left the forest. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. He dismissed Winky. She had failed him. She had let me acquire a wand. She had almost let me escape."

Tempest snorted silently. Crouch Sr had no reason to fire the elf just because she had slipped up… even if it was a pretty major slip up.

"Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then … and then …" Crouch's head rolled on his neck, and an insane grin spread across his face. "My master came for me."

Tempest shivered and she gripped Sirius's rough hand tightly.

"He arrived at our house late one night in the arms of his servant Wormtail. My master had found out that I was still alive. He had captured Bertha Jorkins in Albania. He had tortured her. She told him a great deal. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him the old Auror, Moody, was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped from Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew that I was still his faithful servant – perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based upon the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door."

The smile spread wider over Crouch's face, as though recalling the sweetest memory of his life.

"It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to go about his business as usual, to act as though nothing was wrong. And I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn't been in years.

"And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?" said Dumbledore.

"He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed to place a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Tempestas Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Tempestas Potter. Ensure she reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first -"

"You needed Alastor Moody," said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were blazing, though his voice remained calm.

"We all heard about it!" Remus murmured. "It was just assumed it was merely a fluke- or that Moody won…"

"Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody's double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley when he arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told Arthur Weasley I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody's clothes and Dark detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boom-slang skin from the dungeons."

Snape stared down his long nose at Tempest, who stared straight back at him into his coal black eyes. She hadn't stolen his Boomslang skin after all.

It was unsettling though, for him to stare at her while she was sitting down and she adverted her eyes back to Crouch.

Karkaroff had said that Snape himself was a Death Eater, but he had become a spy for Dumbledore… but after what had happened in the graveyard she didn't trust anyone remotely associated with any of the Death Eaters, former or otherwise…

"-When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it."

"And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?" said Dumbledore.

"Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father's house, and to keep watch over my father."

"But your father escaped," said Dumbledore.

"Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. My master decided it was no longer safe for my father to leave the house. He forced him to send letters to the Ministry instead. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban.

"My master sent me word of my father's escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Tempestas Potter. The map that had almost ruined everything."

"Map?" said Dumbledore quickly. "What map is this?"

"Potter's map of Hogwarts. Potter was out one night with the egg and she and Granger discovered my identity. I obliviated the two of them and took the map. Snape found them there and thought they had broken into his office. I came along afterward as though I had just gotten there.

"For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking around the edge of the forest. Then Potter came, and Krum. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed her, but she would not leave, so I stunned them both and killed my father."

Hermione gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth while Sirius's grip was so tight Tempest swore her metacarpals were cracking.

"You killed your father," Dumbledore said, in the same soft voice. "What did you do with the body?"

"Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I had the map with me. I watched Dumbledore and Snape reach Potter and Krum, then saw Hagrid heading towards them and I doubled around and came up behind him.

"Dumbledore told me to go and look for my father. I went back to my father's body. Watched the map. When everyone was gone, I Transfigured my father's body. He became a bone … I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak, in the freshly dug earth in front of Hagrid's cabin."

"You said that you were told to get me through the tasks- I don't remember you doing a thing." Tempest said after a moment of silence. "How exactly did you 'guide' me through?"

She met Cedric's eyes as she said the words, and realized he had been in the graveyard too, he had just missed death too.

"The first task I was the one who provided Hagrid the basis to tell you about the dragons," Crouch said, "The second task was harder. Potter would not unbend her pride to use the clue which I fed Diggory, but when she did she did not ask her friends for help, negating the use of the book on waterweeds I gave Longbottom weeks ago. In the Black Lake, Potter took far too long finding the mer-city, so I flushed the Myrtle ghost down to the Lake to guide her."

"And the third task?" Sirius asked, his voice strangely rough.

"I stood guard outside the maze and rid every obstacle in front of Potter to let her reach the cup first. I even disabled the Delacour girl by placing the Krum boy under the Imperius curse, then attempted to do the same to Diggory, but Potter saved him in time."

"And the portkey?" Dumbledore said.

"I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner," whispered Barty Crouch. "Turned it into a Portkey. My master's plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honoured by him beyond the dreams of wizards."

Everyone in the room's expression was either shocked, disgusted or- in Dumbledore and Sirius's case, furious.

Dumbledore took a step back, his expression flat and icy. He raised his wand and ropes flew out of it, ropes that twisted around Barty Crouch- like the ones Wormtail had made- and bound him to the chair.

He turned to face Tempest.

"Could you all give me and Tempest a moment- Snuffles… you can stay."

There were various murmurings of accent and they all filed out of the hospital wing.

Tempest knew that Dumbledore would want to know what happened in the graveyard, and she knew she had to tell him- only the graveyard memories were now just a nightmarish blur and she had no wish to delve back into them- pensive or no… and there was no giant rune-covered stone bowl in sight.

Sirius gave Tempest's hand a reassuring squeeze as Dumbledore sat down beside the hospital bed.

"Now, Tempest, I know it's the last thing you want to do, but I need to know what exactly happened in the graveyard."

"Not exactly the _last_ thing I want to do," Tempest said musingly. "The _last_ thing I want to do right now is go for a swim in the Black Lake… awfully cold." She caught Dumbledore's eye and shrugged sheepishly. The cheerful twinkle in his eyes was back, but his expression was serious.

"Yeah, alright- but first, what exactly happened before you found me? Someone said I sent a patronus to you- I never did… I just cast _one_… and well I did cast two in the maze- but they don't really count…"

Sirius looked like he wanted to ask why on earth she had needed to cast a patronus three times that night, but he seemed to restrain himself at the last moment.

"Your patronus follows whatever you are thinking at the exact moment," Dumbledore said, "You probably instinctively sent a patronus back without realizing it… your message proved that."

"What about my patronus?" Tempest asked.

"Your patronus used quite a lot of words I do not recall ever hearing in any language- and I hazard to say I know quite a few expletives in quite a few languages… I must commend you on your imagination… Believe me, I have never heard the phrase 'bloody burning stinking carcass of a castrated snake' used in that way before." His eyes twinkled merrily as he regarded Tempest over the rims of his half-moon glasses. "If indeed I have ever heard the phrase before… which I regretfully have not…" He cleared his throat. "After that, and the almost inane babblings of your friend Mr Diggory who was momentarily paralyzed and saw everything according to him… he informed me that the man you called Peter and Wormtail at the same time, dropped a repulsive slug into a cauldron who turned into a tall handsome man who Mr Diggory was made to suspect was in fact the reincarnated form of Lord Voldemort, who then began talking about his life and used the Cruciatus repeatedly on you- Tempest- when you repeatedly would not remain silent."

Tempest could feel Sirius's shocked gaze drilling into the side of her face but she kept her eyes on Dumbledore regardless. So Cedric hadn't been unconscious like she'd hoped- he'd seen it all.

"In any case, after those occurrences, my brother Alberforth's patronus arrived in much the same manner that yours did, and informed me that you were unconscious outside his pub, and needless to say, myself, Minerva, Severus and your godfather rushed there right away… which brings us to the present."

"Oh, alright then," Tempest said, still avoiding Sirius's gaze. "Well what Cedric said is mostly right. We took the portkey out of the maze and we ended up in this graveyard place where Wormtail tried to kill Cedric, but I sort of fell into him and he missed."

"Peter Pettigrew." Sirius said so quietly Tempest doubted whether or not she even heard him speak at all.

"He tied me up on Riddle's father's grave- his muggle father, by the way Sirius, and then he started making some sort of potion with Riddle's father's bones, my blood, and then he cut off his own right hand."

Sirius's hand tightened once more on Tempest's own and she felt her own right hand reflexively clench. Dumbledore's reaction however, was more extreme than either of them.

He stood so quickly Tempest almost flinched and made a muffled exclamation before seeming to realize he had moved at all, and sat back down.

"In any case, after all the countless melodrama- Lord Voldemort rises again, blah, blah, blah, then he started monologuing about his life, like he wanted me to know exactly what he'd done in his too-long life, and when I got bored and couldn't keep quiet he decided to uh, test out some spells to reacquaint himself with his wand- OW! –Padfoot!"

Tempest yanked her hand back from Sirius's grip, massaging the joints, wincing. "And that's when Cedric became un-paralyzed I suppose, because he attacked Riddle… and then he fell on the Triwizard Cup and was sent back-" Tempest drew a long breath, "-_and_ that's when the Death Eaters arrived. There were around thirty- there was Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Macnair and a really stupid one called Avery… and Malfoy."

Tempest hesitated on the last name, not exactly sure why, only that she was almost certain that just before she had escaped, he _was_ about to do something to help her… but never had. She had _thought_ that he was going to give her some message or something… but he never had.

"-then Riddle started monologuing again about how he had run into Bertha Jorkins and killed her, and how he had _managed_ to come back- and if he hadn't cast the damn silencing spell on me I probably wouldn't be here- he was talking for so long I managed to get my hand free and summon my wand and get free… and it sort of went downhill from there. The maniac wanted to _duel_ of all things… he told me to stand up straight and die like my father did."

Sirius made a choked noise somewhere in the back of his throat, and his face was as pale white as a sheet. Tempest ignored the ache in her hand and grabbed Sirius's own in both of hers, squeezing reassuringly.

"So to skip the boring bits, we duelled for a bit- and then we both threw a spell at the same time- he threw the killing curse-"

Sirius choked and Tempest hurried on.

"-and I cast 'Tempestas'-"

"What are you- insane?" Sirius exploded. "He's going to kill you, and here you are casting elementals? Throw a stunner- throw a blasting curse! Throw anything, not an _elemental_!"

"Sirius, it's alright!" Tempest said hurriedly, "I'm here now, right?"

Sirius relaxed, although only by a fraction. It was obvious he was waiting for what came next.

"Well, the '_elemental_' worked, Sirius, the two spells hit each other- and this is the… odd part. They didn't bounce off one another, they connected."

Dumbledore's eyes flashed, but when Tempest looked over at him, his expression was once again one of polite interest.

"And… people came out of Riddle's wand." Tempest said, feeling like her throat was closing up. "They weren't real, not really, like ghosts- but not. There was an old man, Bertha Jorkins… and then-"

"Lily and James." Sirius said in a way that the statement was a question, or the question was a statement, either or. His voice was quiet, reverent even.

Tempest couldn't find her voice, and merely nodded.

"How?" Sirius asked for her. "I- How?"

"Priori Incantatem," Dumbledore said just as quietly as Sirius.

"What?"

"The Reverse Spell effect?" Sirius asked, his hand gripping both of Tempest's, and Tempest didn't know which one of them was holding on the tightest, she had lost all feeling in her limbs.

"Yes. Tempest and Voldemort's wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of a phoenix. Fawkes in fact."

After everything that had already happened that night- or if it was four in the morning, then the previous night- Tempest didn't have it in herself to be shocked, all she felt was a sort of numb acceptance.

Once again, Sirius spoke for her. "What happens when a wand meets its brother- or sister, if it's the gender of the wielder-"

"They will not work properly against each other," said Dumbledore. "If, however, the owners of the wands force the wands to do battle … a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it has performed – in reverse. The most recent first … and then those which preceded it …"

"So my parents, so, they are-" said Tempest, not wanting to believe for hope, her heart seemed to be beating out of her chest, and an odd pounding in her ears, and against her will she was filled with hope- radiant hope which made her want to jump, to run, to fly…

"No spell can reawaken the dead," Dumbledore said, and Tempest stopped.

It was like the bird inside her had just died, shot in mid-air, just after having taken flight.

There was the way he was looking at her though, as though trying to convey some sort of meaning. –**No ****_spell_**** can reawaken the dead**…

"All that would have happened is a sort of reverse echo. A shadow of your living parents."

"But they talked to me!" Tempest said, trying desperately to deny what Dumbledore was saying, even though she knew, with a sort of crushing realization, that what he said was true. "My dad, he told me to cast a patronus, and mum said it would lead me on- and it did, that was how I apparated back-"

Dumbledore was shaking his head.

"I am sorry Tempest."

Tempest felt Sirius's arm around her shoulders, and then something wet fell on her arm. Lifting her head, Tempest couldn't see Sirius's face, but she knew.

"Well," Tempest said, her voice cracking slightly, "S' good to know, you know. For certain I mean. I'd always thought with so much magic around, maybe, someday- it doesn't matter. If thousands of other wizards can't figure it out then it's a pretty clear message, huh?"

"Tempest-"

"No, it's fine! I'm great- peachy."

There was a long pause.

"Well, Tempest, was there anything else-"

"Yes, when I got attacked by the snake, Wormtail saved me- he got me out of the graveyard."

"Wormy?" Sirius interrupted.

His grey eyes were suspiciously bright, but his face was carefully composed.

"Peter helped you?"

"I don't know where he is now, but yes, he did. No spells would work on the snake, and it was crushing my chest, and somehow he got it off me and helped me out of the graveyard, and my patronus went into me, and I apparated out- and that's it."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair with a sigh, staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. Tempest let him muse for several minutes, but eventually she could not hold her silence for any longer.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking- how _did_ my patronus help me apparate? You said it does whatever I am thinking at the moment, so-"

"Magic is a mysterious thing." Dumbledore said, "A patronus takes on the form of whatever you draw strength from. For instance, your previous patronus was a doe- your mother's symbol- you found your strength in her. Now your patronus is a stallion, therefore what you rely on for strength is the idea of nobility, pride, happiness and freedom."

"Yes, but sir, that doesn't explain how my patronus helped me apparate."

"My guess is that when you touched your patronus, that confidence and every emotion and thought you instil into your patronus may have entered you, and that provided you the 'tug' to carry you back… however, as it was your first apparition, it was less than perfect, but as you _are_ here now, it cannot be too focused upon."

"The hunk of flesh that used to be attached to my arm disagrees with you." Tempest said dryly, glancing down at her bandaged arm.

"She uses sarcasm as a defence," Sirius said, making Tempest open her mouth in protest, only to close it as she realized grudgingly, that Sirius was right.

"Why did Riddle look so… not snakelike?" Tempest asked, "I thought that he wouldn't look so… so young, or handsome- it was almost repulsive!"

"Hey!"

"You know what I mean, Padfoot. He's sixty-five and a monster, you don't expect him to have that kind of face!"

"I am not certain," Dumbledore said musingly. "My only guess is that it has something to do with your blood, Tempest. Have you used any blood charms recently?"

Tempest exchanged a glance with Sirius.

"Well, Sirius did cast one on me a few months ago, he's now my uncle on my mother's side, turning her into a half-blood, and me into Sirius's niece…"

"You what?"

For the first time, Dumbledore looked well and truly stunned. His mouth had fallen open, and his expression Tempest knew George would have loved to see.

"Sirius cast a blood charm between us so that the blood wards would work when I'm living with him, along with the Fidelus Charm like Minnie… d'you think that's why Riddle looked… well, like Riddle?"

Dumbledore seemed to recover his voice.

"Most probably. Your… altered blood must have caused Voldemort to revert back to the state that he had been before he began killing and therefore splitting hi-"

"Splitting what?"

"Never mind." Dumbledore said in a tone that made it clear there would be no argument.

With another sigh he stood.

"Now, I must go to see Minerva and Severus. I have a task for the later, and with the former, we must begin our search for the real Alastor Moody… I trust you two will be fine here?"

Sirius glanced at the bound and unconscious figure of Crouch, then leant over and plucked his wand from the bedside table.

"I daresay we'll be just fine- Temper?"

Tempest gave a silent nod.

"Then I bid you goodnight, Sirius- Tempest…"

Dumbledore swept out of the room as Madam Pomfrey came hurrying out of her office. She skirted around the prone form of Crouch and walked over to Tempest's other side. Sirius slid off the bed, keeping hold of Tempest's hands, onto one of the bedside chairs.

"Here," Madam Pomfrey said, thrusting a goblet of clear liquid into Tempest's face. "It's dreamless sleep."

Tempest took the goblet slowly, deciding to ignore the rather choked way in which Madam Pomfrey was talking.

"I knitted up your ribs," she said, straightening out Tempest's bed sheets. "Relocated your shoulder and managed to fix your arm by putting some essence of dittany on it, but where I am guessing the snake bit you, it wouldn't heal at all, no matter what I tried, so I just siphoned out all the venom and bandaged it up… and there was one more thing."

"Yes?"

Madam Pomfrey looked like she regretted bringing up the topic.

"When I was running a diagnostic spell-"

She paused again.

"_Yes?_"

"-well, I couldn't help noticing that your nervous system was in flux, which could either mean two things, the first one is that you secretly have forty-seven chromosomes, or-"

"Or the Cruciatus Curse? Seven times? Yeah." Tempest said flatly. "Yeah, Sirius, I take it back, sarcasm? I think I need an on/off switch."

Sirius was staring at her with an expression that she couldn't identify, while Madam Pomfrey looked like she was about to cry.

"I think I need to- I… drink your potion!"

Tempest watched in utter bemusement as Madam Pomfrey bustled back into her office, wiping away what looked suspiciously like tears.

"Sirius what-"

Tempest turned, only to be crushed in a hug by Sirius that reminded her that just a few hours previous she had had several broken ribs.

"You know at your very first birthday party, the third time I had seen you since your parents since they went into hiding, your dad cornered me and made me _swear_ on my life that if anything happened to him or Lily that **_I_** would take care of you and never let anything hurt you… and while you were in the maze I was having a panic attack the whole time- then we get your patronus and Dumbledore's brother's and we find you lying on the road- and you could be dead- I freaked out! You're the last living legacy of James and Lily left, and apart from seeing Voldemort dead, you're the only reason I've really got to keep on living, Temper."

Tempest was taken aback by the intensity in Sirius's face as he let her go and sat back in his chair. "Now you damn well drink that potion and take a nap, or I'll be pouring it down your own throat before you do something else that gives me a heart attack."

Tempest sniffed and drained the cup of potion.

~Y._.Y~

Tempest woke up to a freezing cold which seemed to seep straight into her bones, along with the chilling sensation of ice water being dumped over her head. Her breath fogged as she opened her eyes, seeing Sirius who still looked like Snuffles was slumped in his chair, face bone white and staring with wide eyes at the hooded creature which was looming over Crouch, drawing a bone rattling breath.

Silvery streaks of light seemed to be coming from Crouch's mouth, Crouch, who was gapping, staring up into the hood of the Dementor, his face distorted into a soundless scream.

It was growing colder and colder, someone was yelling in the distance, and there was a man's voice speaking too…

_"Run Lily! Take Tempest and go- I'll hold him off-"_

_"Stand aside you silly girl, stand aside…"_

_"No, not Tempest, please not Tempest!"_

_"Stand aside-"_

_"Please no- not Tempest!"_

"Expecto Patronum!"

And then the voices morphed into Sirius's, and he was standing with his wand out, the silvery dog forcing the dementor back into the corner of the hospital wing, and it was Minnie shouting at Cornelius Fudge the Minister of Magic, and Crouch was slumped on the ground, his ropes loose around him, and he was staring at the opposite wall with a vacant expression on his face.

"What on earth were you thinking?" Minnie shrieked.

Snape swept into the hospital wing, his wand out, and he came to a stop behind Minnie. His eyes quickly scanned the room, only resting briefly on Tempest herself, before coming to a rest on Crouch. He took four strides forward and knelt by Crouch's side like an overgrown bat.

"Bringing that _thing _in here- Dumbledore would never approve! This is the _hospital_ wing, Tempest and Alastor were resting-"

"Kissed." Snape said, making Minnie fall silent. "Not a shred of his soul left in him."

Tempest stared at Crouch. He wasn't dead, she could still see his chest moving but his expression… it wasn't… anything. His expression was completely blank as though someone had sucked the life from it… literally. Only it wasn't the life that had been sucked out, it was the soul.

Tempest grabbed her own wand off the bedside dresser and scrambled out of the bed to stand by Sirius's side, ignoring the way her ribs and shoulder screamed in pain.

"You alright?" she asked Sirius, whose face was still pale.

"You're the one who has broken ribs and you're asking me that?"

"No- I just thought, after Az-"

Tempest broke off, remembering Fudge and Snape.

"Where's Dumbledore?" Fudge asked, seemingly unconcerned about the demented Crouch.

"Not here!" Sirius exploded, "Why on earth would he be here? It's the hospital wing!"

The doors leading to the hospital wing swung open and Dumbledore strode in.

Tempest only had a moment to think about the coincidence before Snape had stood and was at Dumbledore's side.

"The Minister of Magic here requires your presence obviously enough, Headmaster." Snape said, "And because he did not believe himself to be safe-"

"I beg your pardon!" Fudge said, sounding livid. "It is up to me to determine my own safety-"

"But not that of those around you!" Minnie exploded. "And as Minister of Magic, isn't that your priority?"

"Do not presume to tell me what I can or cannot do!"

"-and he summoned that _thing_," Minnie yelled, pointing across the room at the dementor who was still cornered by Sirius's dog. "He summoned that _thing_ up into the castle for his 'protection' and then it just swooped down- and… and…"

"It is no loss!" Fudge snapped, looking quite unhinged. "The man was clearly insane, responsible for the death of several people!"

"But he cannot give testimony now, Cornelius," said Dumbledore staring steadily at Fudge as though seeing him plainly for the first time. "He cannot give evidence about why he killed those people."

"Why he killed them? Well, that's no mystery, is it?" blustered Fudge. "He was a raving lunatic! From what Minerva and Severus have told me, he seems to have thought he was doing it all on You-Know-Who's instructions!"

"Lord Voldemort was giving him instructions, Cornelius," Dumbledore said. "Those peoples' deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body."

Fudge looked as though someone had just swung a heavy weight into his face. Dazed and blinking, he stared back at Dumbledore as if he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. He began to sputter, still goggling at Dumbledore.

"You-Know-Who … returned? Preposterous. Come now, Dumbledore …"

"As Minerva and Severus and countless others have and will doubtless tell you," said Dumbledore, "we heard Barty Crouch confess. Under the influence of Vertaserium, he told us how he was smuggled out of Azkaban, and how Voldemort – learning of his continued existence from Bertha Jorkins – went to free him from his father and used him to capture Tempest. The plan worked, I tell you. Crouch has helped Voldemort to return."

"See here, Dumbledore," said Fudge, and Tempest was bemused to see a slight smile dawning on his face. "you- you can't seriously believe that You-Know-Who… back? Come now, come now… Of course, Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who's orders- but to take the word of a lunatic like that, Dumbledore…"

"He wasn't a lunatic!" Tempest said, unable to remain quiet for any longer. "Oh, alright, he was a lunatic, but he was perfectly sane while he was doing all that stuff!"

Fudge turned his infuriating smile on Tempest. "Forgive me if I do not take the word of a mere fourteen year old girl."

Sirius made a furious noise, taking a step forwards, his wand half outstretched as though he was going to attack the Minister of Magic.

"When Tempest and Mr Diggory touched the Triwizard Cup tonight, they were transported straight to Voldemort," said Dumbledore steadily. "They both witnessed Lord Voldemort's rebirth. I will explain it all to you if you will step up to my office." Dumbledore glanced at Tempest, then back at Fudge. "I am sure they will be happy to answer all your questions in due time, but I am afraid I cannot permit you to question either of them tonight. Mr Diggory is with his parents, and Tempest is resting."

Fudge's curious smile lingered. He too glanced at Tempest, then looked back at Dumbledore, and said, "You are - er - prepared to take Tempest's word on this, are you, Dumbledore?"

"And what do you mean by that?" Sirius said furiously, only restrained by Tempest from transforming into Padfoot and tearing out Fudge's throat. His lips were pulling back over his teeth as though he was in dog form and was baring his teeth at Fudge.

"Nothing," Fudge said, but another pointed glance towards Tempest told her everything she needed to know.

"Certainly, I believe Tempest," said Dumbledore, his eyes blazing in the same way they had before. "I heard Crouch's confession, and I heard Tempest's account of what happened after she touched the Triwizard Cup; the two stories make sense, they explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer."

Fudge still had that strange smile on his face. Once again, he glanced at Tempest before answering.

"You are prepared to believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, on the word of a lunatic murderer, and a girl who … well …"

Tempest smiled tightly at Fudge as he shot her another look and she felt her own teeth glinting like Sirius's as she bared her teeth at the Minister of Magic. "You've been reading Skeeter." She said through her teeth.

Fudge reddened slightly, but a defiant and obstinate look came over his face.

"And if I have?" he said, turning away from Tempest, and looking at Dumbledore. "If I have discovered that you've been keeping certain facts about the girl very quiet? A Parselmouth, eh? And having funny turns all over the place -"

"If you call headaches that split your head in two and dreams of Riddle torturing one of your parents previous best friends- 'funny turns' I'd like to give you a-"

"Aha!" Fudge said triumphantly, pointing at Tempest as though he had uncovered some kind of dark secret. "You admit to it! Hallucinating too are we?"

"I don't know about you, but I most certainly haven't," Tempest said angrily. Her chest was hurting again and she wondered whether her ribs were knitted fully or not.

"Listen to me, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, taking a step toward Fudge, and once again, he seemed to radiate icy energy. "Tempest is as sane as you or I-"

"Which basically means insane, right?" Tempest muttered, glancing at Sirius, who gave her a tiny smile while still managing to look furious. "In any case, I _saw_ Riddle! I was there- Cedric saw him too-"

"Who is this 'Riddle' you continue to refer to?" Fudge said exasperatedly.

"Voldemort's real name!" Tempest said impatiently. "What kind of mother names their son 'Voldemort?' His real name was Tom Riddle, and he came back a handsome bastard, and he's a half-blood, did you know that? If you think I can just _imagine_ seven Cruciatus curses-"

Snape jerked slightly as Tempest made the reference to 'half-blood' which made her wonder absentmindedly about his own blood status. She knew it was none of her business, but now that she thought about it, she had always thought Snape was a pure-blood…

Fudge was shaking his head. "Are you listening to this?" he said, gesturing towards Tempest.

"I can give you the names of the Death Eaters that he summoned!" Tempest yelled at Fudge. "He has them all marked with the Dark Mark on their left forearm!"

Snape shifted slightly and Tempest's eyes met his coal black. He hadn't been in the graveyard, and neither had Karkaroff, and Tempest was almost a hundred percent sure that the both of them were Death Eaters.

"There was Macnair-"

"Cleared of all charges! Working for the Ministry!"

"An idiot called Avery-"

"Cleared!"

"Nott- Crabbe- Goyle-"

"All cleared! You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!" said Fudge angrily. "You could have found those names in old reports of the trials! For heaven's sake, Dumbledore – the girl was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year too – some nonsense about Peter Pettigrew, her tales are getting taller, and you're still swallowing them- the girl can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think she's trustworthy?"

"Tempest is a thousand times _more_ trustworthy than all of the people you employ at the Ministry combined, and I would know, the amount of snakes you have in the Ministry-"

"And you are?" Fudge asked, turning sharply to Sirius.

"Call me Snuffles." Sirius said, baring his teeth again.

"Pleasure." Fudge said.

It seemed to be something about politicians that common courtesy was dictated and politeness to complete strangers was more important than that to old friends.

"You think Bertha Jorkins and Crouch Sr just upped and _died_ of their own accord? No one just goes around killing the both of them at the same time randomly!" Tempest said.

"I see no evidence to the contrary!" shouted Fudge at Tempest, his face purpling. "It seems to me that you are all determined to start a panic that will destabilize everything we have worked for these last thirteen years!"

_You did nothing!_ Tempest thought furiously. The only reason Riddle was gone in the first place was because her mother had sacrificed herself, and yet Fudge was turning it into one of _his_ accomplishments. She had never liked the Minister of Magic much, but she had always considered him rather good-natured. Now, instead, in front of her stood a short, angry wizard who was refusing, with the stake of every person in the world's life at risk, to believe that Riddle had risen once again.

"Voldemort has returned," Dumbledore said. "If you accept that fact straightaway Fudge, and take the necessary measures, we may still be able to save the situation. The first and most essential step is to remove Azkaban from the control of the dementors -"

"Preposterous!" shouted Fudge. "Remove the dementors? I'd be kicked out of office for suggesting it! Half of us only feel safe in our beds at night because we know the dementors are standing guard at Azkaban!"

"The rest of us sleep less soundly in our beds, Cornelius, knowing that you have put Lord Voldemort's most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks them!" said Dumbledore. "They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago!"

Fudge was opening and closing his mouth as though no words could express his outrage.

"The second step you must take – and at once," Dumbledore pressed on, "is to send envoys to the giants."

"Envoys to the giants?" Fudge shrieked, finding his tongue again. "What madness is this?"

Tempest personally didn't see the logic either, but it was _Dumbledore_, and he must have had a reason…

"Extend them the hand of friendship, now, before it is too late," said Dumbledore, "or Voldemort will persuade them, as he did before, that he alone among wizards will give them their rights and their freedom!"

"You – you cannot be serious!" Fudge gasped, shaking his head and retreating further from Dumbledore. "If the magical community got wind that I had approached the giants – people hate them, Dumbledore – end of my career -"

"And your career is more important than thousands and millions of lives?" Tempest said in disbelief.

"Exactly! You are blinded," said Dumbledore, his voice rising now, the aura of power around him palpable, his eyes blazing once more, "by the love of the office you hold, Cornelius! You place too much importance, and you always have done, on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any – and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now – take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act – and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy the world we have tried to rebuild!"

"Insane," whispered Fudge, still backing away. "Mad …"

"The only one mad here, is the one person who refuses to accept the facts even when they're shoved in his face," Tempest said flatly into the utter quiet.

Eventually Dumbledore spoke. "If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, "we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I – I shall act as I see fit."

Dumbledore's voice carried no hint of a threat; it sounded like a mere statement, but Fudge bristled as though Dumbledore were advancing upon him with a wand.

"Now, see here, Dumbledore," he said, waving a threatening finger. "I've given you free rein, always. I've had a lot of respect for you. I might not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I've kept quiet. There aren't many who'd have let you hire werewolves-"

"There is _nothing_ wrong with Remus _just_ because he's a werewolf!"

Tempest glanced at Sirius, having spoken at the exact same time, but Fudge continued regardless.

"-or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry.

But if you're going to work against me -"

"The only one against whom I intend to work," said Dumbledore, "is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side."

It seemed Fudge could think of no answer to this. He rocked backward and forward on his small feet for a moment and spun his bowler hat in his hands. Finally, he said, with a hint of a plea in his voice, "He can't be back, Dumbledore, he just can't be …"

Snape strode forward, past Dumbledore, pulling up the left sleeve of his robes as he went. He stuck out his forearm and showed it to Fudge, who recoiled.

"There," said Snape harshly. "There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff s too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord's vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold."

Tempest stared at Snape. So she had been right, right about both him and Karkaroff.

Fudge stepped back from Snape. He was shaking his head. He did not seem to have taken in a word Snape had said. He stared, apparently repelled by the ugly mark on Snape's arm, then looked up at Dumbledore and whispered, "I don't know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry."

Sirius's patronus faded into mist as it followed Fudge as he strode down between the hospital beds towards the door, then retraced his steps back to Tempest.

"There will be a ceremony, tomorrow- or later today, actually, judging by the time, but it is to present you and Mr Diggory with the Triwizard Cup, and your prize money, which I assume you will split."

Tempest gave him a curt nod, still eying the Dementor behind Fudge.

"Thank you."

He crammed his bowler hat onto his head and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The moment he had disappeared, Dumbledore turned to look at Minnie.

"Minerva, I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also- if she will consent to come- Madame Maxime."

Minnie gave Tempest a concerned glance, and then a sharp nod to Dumbledore. She turned and left without a word.

"And now," Dumbledore said, drawing his wand, "It is time for two of our members to recognize each other for who they are… Sirius- if you please."

He flicked his wand and from beside Tempest she felt Sirius grow three inches and when she turned she was greeted with Sirius's familiar casually handsome face and steely grey eyes.

"Him!" Snape snarled, making Tempest's head jerk around. His face was contorted into an expression of mixed fury and horror. "What is he doing here?"

"He is here at my invitation," said Dumbledore, looking between them, "as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other."

Sirius did nothing for the longest while.

"Temper?" Sirius said quietly, and Tempest met his eyes and some sort of understanding passed between them. She gave a tiny nod.

Sirius swallowed, and then in two quick steps, Sirius walked towards Snape, and so quickly, Tempest almost missed it, the two men shook hands, both letting go almost instantly.

"That will do to be going on with," said Dumbledore, stepping between them. "Now I have work for each of you. Fudge's attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. Remus knows already, however the Order of the Phoenix must be summoned again."

Tempest blinked. She knew she wasn't meant to know, but she had seen something on Minnie's desk second year… if the Order of the Phoenix was being called, that meant the Ministry truly could not be trusted.

Sirius turned to Tempest. "I'll see you in a few days alright? I've got a house and I'll meet you at the train station end of term."

"_Really_?"

Tempest gapped at Sirius. It was actually happening, in two days she was _really_ going to live with Sirius. So far they had only planned… now it was a reality.

"Yeah."

Tempest felt the smile tugging at her lips, spreading across her face, until she was beaming at Sirius as if she would never stop. She flung her arms around Sirius's neck and hugged him for what seemed like an eternity. When she finally let go, she gave Sirius a playful shove. "You and Remus go out there and start rounding them up. I'll see you."

Sirius nodded, then turned into Padfoot, gave Tempest a slobbery kiss, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.

"Severus," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready … if you are prepared …"

"I am," said Snape.

He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.

Tempest sat back down on her bed and watched as Dumbledore bid Snape good luck, and then he swept wordlessly after Sirius.

Tempest knew where he was going.

~Y._.Y~

The presentation ceremony for the Triwizard tournament passed in a blur. Fudge had stood up at breakfast the following morning and called Tempest and Cedric up to accept the cup. The speeches were far too long, and the bag of gold which Fudge had thrust into her hand was too heavy, and all she wanted was for time to pass quickly so that she could see Sirius again.

She had barely talked to Hermione or Ron since she had left the hospital wing, even though she knew they had something important to tell her. She had a feeling it had to do with Skeeter, but at the moment she couldn't really bring herself to think about the woman. Riddle was back, and that changed everything.

Oddly enough, it was Cedric and George that Tempest found herself spending the most time with. George- because he was just so constant. He was the breath of normality that Tempest craved, and he didn't treat her any differently than usual, merely teasing her like he usually did, and planning pranks. Cedric was because he knew exactly what Tempest had been through.

True, he had not been tortured, nor had he seen the Death Eaters, but he had been there in the graveyard, he had missed death by millimetres, and he too had stood against Riddle, and in his own way, he was just as much of a comfort as George was.

Tempest hadn't exactly been approved to leave the hospital wing, but she would have gone mad if she had to stare at the same four walls for the next two days, so she had begged Madam Pomfrey until the woman had let her out.

Alastor Moody, the real one, had taken up residence in the bed adjacent to the one Tempest used to occupy, and he had only just left the hospital wing for the first time. He was ten times as jumpy as his impersonator, but according to Minnie, he had spent the past ten months locked up in his own trunk, therefore it was to be expected.

Time seemed to be mocking Tempest, creeping by as slowly as it could, just to infuriate her and suddenly she found she had a lot of time on her hands.

She spent most of her time outside by the Black Lake with George, or just by herself in the Room of Requirement, which always turned into a flat grassy field whenever she entered it.

She also had a lot of time to think… which was not always such a boon as it seemed.

She had begun working on her project for Neville's parents again, combining increasingly volatile ingredients randomly in the hopes for some new and astounding result, but so far, it was still a dead end.

Something else she thought about was Wormtail.

_Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, Wormtail, Temper…_

Wormtail had saved her life. He had gotten the snake off her and was the reason she was still alive. Why his change of heart? Had he finally woken up, somewhere in the middle of the night and remembered his past family? He would be in hiding now, both from her and Sirius, and from the other Death Eaters.

And then of all things, she began thinking about Draco.

His father had been in the graveyard. She had thought, stupidly, that somewhere in the middle of it all he might have been trying to help her… somehow. Instead, all he had done was stand there and watch her being tortured, merely stood there and did nothing.

She was foolish to even let that mean so much to her, but for some reason she couldn't stop caring.

The problem with caring, was that you began to care _too much_.

It was what she had told herself ever since she was five and realized that life wasn't what you sat back and saw, it was what you went out there to make for yourself. Because if you just watched, then nothing would ever change. She had said that same two lines over and over to herself up until she was thirteen just so she wouldn't get attached to things that she couldn't rely on.

Except she did.

Except she had.

And now she was wishing she never had.

For once, Tempest wished she hadn't been right.

"We caught Skeeter," Hermione had informed Tempest.

"We've got her in an a jar with an unbreakable charm on it up in my dormitory." Ron said.

"Caught her buzzing around just before Dumbledore and Snuffles and Monty went to the Hogs Head to find you. She was probably listening to Cedric, and was going to write a horrible story about him next… well, I've told her that I'll let slip to the Ministry of Magic that she's an unregistered animagus _unless_ she can keep the vicious pen of hers to herself for the summer holidays."

Tempest let a small smile slide across her features as she walked with George across the Quiddtich Pitch on the last day of term.

Their trunks had already been transported down to the train beforehand and Ron and Hermione had gone on ahead with Fred already.

"What?" George asked, glancing at Tempest.

Tempest merely laughed, seeing the sun burst through the clouds and streak across the grass.

"I was just thinking," she said, taking George's hand, "I was thinking everything will be fine."

~Y._.Y~

"Are you insane?"

Severus Snape paced the circular interior of Dumbledore's office while Fawkes watched him serenely.

"Have you actually _lost_ your mind, old man? You are _actually_ letting Miss Potter l_ive_ with her godfather for the summer?"

"I see no reason not to," Dumbledore said, surveying Severus calmly over the rims of his crescent moon spectacles. "The blood wards are in place, and I expect Sirius will not hesitate to cast every defensive spell in his arsenal for Tempest."

"It is not merely _just_ protective measures, it's the man himself! They will doubtless have the werewolf trooping in and out, and Black is hardly the most responsible nor adequate guardian."

"Remus has nothing to do with my final decision, and in any case, you seem very opinionated about this, Severus… is it that you actually care for Tempest?"

Severus snorted.

"As if that would ever be the case. It is however, undeniable, that it is not _safe_."

"Safe?"

Dumbledore stood and walked over to the window, watching the sun creep over the mountains, and he gave a sigh.

"Yes, it is to be admitted that it is not the safest option- but Severus?" he paused, "I would usually choose safety over happiness… but in a life where the first has always taken precedence over the later, I think Tempest deserves the freedom to decide for herself."

"So you would rather have the girl an inch from death, _happy_, than perfectly fine still living with Minerva?"

A small smile crept across Dumbledore's face as he stared out the window to the Quidditch pitch, watching a pair of Hogwarts students crossing the field, laughing, hand in hand.

"Yes." he said simply.


	15. Chapter 15

**It's Your Life. Live It.**

C1: The Marauders.

A werewolf ran through the trees, howling at the moon and then suddenly a dark blur appeared, cutting across the werewolf's path, forcing it to change direction. A magnificent stag came into view, it's head raised proudly, running easily beside the werewolf, a rat riding on its antlers… and then there, beside the odd group ran a light tan wolf, with silvery muzzle and ink dipped paws… it was an animal Tempest had never seen before, but it seemed so familiar… so _right_, like it was at home…

…and then the wolf stopped suddenly and turned, it's clear silver eyes meeting Tempest's own… and Tempest woke with a start.

Tempest sat bolt upright in bed, staring into the darkness. It was a moment before she could remember where she was.

A flash of moment caught her eye, and she glanced at the full size framed picture of the only photo she owned which had her entire family in it. James Potter was flying on his Comet Two Sixty, holding a three month old Tempest, throwing a Quaffle to Sirius, who passed to Remus, who passed to Wormtail, who missed, and the Quaffle was caught by Lily, who was wobbling horribly, but flying nevertheless, and they were all laughing, staring at the camera.

Tempest groaned, and rolled out of bed, wincing as her bare feet met the cold wood floor. She transformed into Temper the wolf, then padded to the door. She turned the handle with a paw then ran along the hallway and down three flights of stairs until she reached the kitchen.

"Hey, Temper," Sirius greeted the wolf. "Breakfast's right there, no paws on the table, we've got enough of that for later."

Tempest leapt up onto the chair next to Sirius's and changed back into herself. "How's the bike coming?" she asked, scarfing down her eggs so fast they burned her throat on the way down.

"Great," Sirius replied, "I just detached the sidecar, so it's much more versatile… I'm fidgeting around with the dragon-fire booster though, I could use a hand-"

"My pleasure," Tempest replied, "great eggs by the way, tell Kreacher I said thanks."

"I'd sooner castrate myself," Sirius said, playing with his own fork. "You've been here how long, Tempest? When have you ever heard me thank that insufferable elf?"

"A month, Sirius, and it wouldn't hurt for you to at least _try_ to be civil."

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "Temper, that elf represents absolutely everything I hated about my childhood, and I would sooner kiss _Snape_ -"

"Let's not get carried away now," Tempest laughed, throwing down her fork and leaning back with a sigh. It was much warmer as a wolf, what with all the fur and paws. "Why don't we get started on your bike?"

Life at Sirius's was a thousand times better than Tempest could ever have imagined, and she had always thought of it bathed in a warm glow. It had only taken a month, a month for her to become the youngest person in recorded history to become an animagus, illegal or otherwise. They had spent a week breaking all of the harmful spells Sirius's parents had cast over the house, and Tempest didn't have to worry about the Trace at all as they had so many protective enchantments woven around the house that a tank could have attacked and it wouldn't have made the tiniest of scratches on the front door's paintwork… besides, as far as the Ministry was concerned, she was still living with the Dursleys.

Sirius had also taken it upon himself to continue teaching Tempest all the defensive and offensive spells in his arsenal, along with non-verbal, which Tempest thought was insanely awesome, as it meant she could flick her wand, merely _think_ the spell, and then it would happen, just like Minnie used to do all the time.

Yes, admittedly it had taken her weeks to master the concept of non-verbal spells, but she could now effectively cast a soundless _Accio_.

But it wasn't just what they _did_, it was Sirius himself. He had a sort of aura of happiness and contentment around him that seemed to affect anyone and everyone around him and for the past month Tempest swore she hadn't stopped smiling once.

She got up at whatever time she felt like, which was usually somewhere between half past eight to half past ten, usually took a shower, threw on whatever she could find in the semi-darkness of her room, then headed downstairs for breakfast with Sirius before which the day dissolved into doing whatever they felt like which without fail ended with Tempest crashing, exhausted.

It had been an issue getting Remus through the wards to the house, seeing as they had just cast the Fidelus charm and made Tempest Secret Keeper. Still, they had managed it, and Remus was now regularly popping in every second day. The full moon was drawing closer, and Tempest knew Sirius planned to sneak out with Remus to the woods down the road for the night. She had argued the point with Sirius until she had grown hoarse, but it was one of the only things that he had been serious about. Remus had backed him up that in no way he would agree to Tempest helping that full moon, even though that what the reason she had learned how to become an animagus in the first place.

Tempest hurried back up the stairs as Sirius went down to the basement where they kept the bike. She dragged a comb through her hair, wincing as it snagged on the knots. She yanked on a pair of jeans over her shorts and shrugged on one of the many heavy leather jackets Sirius had given her. She didn't need to worry about getting her t-shirt filthy with motor oil as she always used the same ratty t-shirt to sleep in, and it was frayed beyond repair in any case.

Running back down the stairs, Tempest skirted around Kreacher who was as usual, scrubbing away at the frame of one of Sirius's long lost ancestors.

"Filthy half-bloods and half-breeds, sullying the Noble house of Black…"

"Thank you, Kreacher, I loved your eggs!" Tempest called, jumping the last few steps and landing on the stone floor of the basement.

"Chuck me my wand," Sirius's voice said from underneath a pile of metal.

Tempest glanced around for Sirius's wand, and spotted it resting on top of the leather seat of the bike. She put it in Sirius's outstretched hand, then ducked under the sheets of iron to see what Sirius was doing.

A blast of hot air in Tempest's face told her that the blowtorch she had seen Sirius playing with the day before was not just for show. It was, Sirius had realized far easier to work with muggle mechanics than play around with magic for a muggle machine. Tempest didn't mind, she liked using wrenches and spanners just for the simple reason that they worked better than tapping the screw with her wand and having half the room blow up.

(Repairs when that happened were a right bitch.)

"The invisibility on the bike is faulty-"

"On it," Tempest replied, grabbing a wrench from the floor and walking over to the bike.

"So," Tempest began, tightening a loose bolt on the side of the engine. "About full moon-"

"Tempest," Sirius sighed, "We've talked about this, and I am putting my foot down- _no_."

"But isn't that the whole point?" Tempest said in frustration, slamming her fist into the side of the motorcycle, bruising her knuckles. "Isn't that the reason I became an animagus in the first place?"

"Not exactly," Sirius said, and the dull roaring of the blowtorch cut off. "Every Marauder with the exception of Moony is an animagus… it's required."

"Isn't the point of it to help Moony though? That's why you became animaguses in the first place! To help him!"

"Yes, and I can manage him perfectly fine next week, Temper- pass me that hammer, it is _way_ too dangerous, Prongs would never forgive me if something happened to you, and Lily would have my guts for her wedding garter- thank you, now gimme the spanner- so as I have said, for the thousandth time, you are _not_ coming… Tempest?"

"What?" Tempest looked up from the wires she was twisting together.

"Promise me you won't follow us next week."

"Promise you?" Tempest asked tiredly, "You know I don't break promises, Sirius."

"Exactly."

Tempest stared straight at Sirius. "This is how much you don't want me to go?"

"Temper-"

"Yeah, alright, whatever, I promise I won't follow you next week, Sirius." Tempest sighed and threw the spanner closest to her at Sirius. "But you are making a stupid mistake. You _know_ it takes two to handle Moony."

"We'll see, Temper."

"Oh I will."

~Y._.Y~

Minerva McGonagall never thought she would live to see the day when she would voluntarily miss the offspring of James Potter, but it was, amazingly enough, happening.

Her little cottage by the sea seemed oddly empty without Tempest's constant presence, her odd chatter, sarcastic comments and the way she seemed to take up all the space in the room without even trying.

It did _not_ bring ease to her soul to know that she was living with Sirius Black now, an irresponsible, immature man, just as reckless as Tempest, if not more, and the combination of the two was hardly the best.

Minerva missed Tempest, plain and simple. She missed Tempest's odd habit of singing in the shower, missed seeing Tempest's uncombed ragged mop of hair around the place and hearing Tempest's sarcastic bark of a laugh.

So when she received an owl from Sirius and Tempest both, inviting her to an Order of the Phoenix meeting at 12 Grimmauld Place, she did not hesitate.

Two days later, Minerva stood outside numbers 11 and 13 Grimmauld Place holding a scrap of paper in her hand that looked like it had been torn from a notebook. '_12 Grimmauld Place'_ was written on it in familiar scrawling script in Tempest's signature black and silver ink.

Swallowing, Minerva knocked on the door that had appeared between numbers 11 and 13, and as the door swung open and she stepped through, a bucket of ice water was upended over her.

"Mr Black!" Minerva gasped, pushing the door closed behind her and kicking at the bucket which innocently rolled away.

Sirius Black's head appeared around the stairwell a roguish grin on his face. "Oh, hey Minnie, you're the first here!"

Minerva flicked her wand at herself, instantly drying her robes. "Childish pranks, Sirius? And I thought that you would have matured a bit."

"Marauder's forever," Sirius replied.

Whatever that meant.

"Is Tempest around?" Minerva asked, glancing down the hallway. She had been to Wallburga and Orion Black's residence once before and her initial impression had been that while the house was immaculately cared for yet bore an air of neglect and abject despair.

It could not have been more different now.

The walls were the same colour, and the same portraits hung from the walls (even though it was obvious someone had tried to remove them by force), but it was almost like a glow around the house… it was like the glow of a fire, or something brighter. It spoke of long nights spent together, laughing in front of a fireplace, chasing the other up and down the stairs… it was just an aura of happiness, contentment and love.

"Oh, she's still working on the bike," Sirius replied, glancing over his shoulder. "The booster blew up in my face just minutes ago, so I'm taking a break while she fixes it… don't tell her I told you so, but she's actually a lot better with the bike than I am… talk about shame. James would laugh in my face at his daughter out-preforming me…"

"The motorbike? The flying muggle contraption that Hagrid had?" Minerva asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, except it was mine before Hagrid's… I just lent it to him… hey Tempest!"

Minerva merely heard someone yell "Minnie!" and then a dark blur had hurled itself at her and flung its arms around her waist, and Minerva was engulfed with the smell of petrol and grease. Untangling herself from her attacker, Minerva was greeted by the sight of white teeth gleaming at her through a black mask.

"Tempest?"

"Hey Minnie!" the soot covered girl replied, the teeth glinting.

"Tempest- you look-"

"Completely filthy, yes I know, I'll go have a shower later- Sirius, the booster's fixed, you are welcome! In any case, if Sirius hasn't told you, you're the first one to arrive for the meeting, which is in the dining hall, I'll show you, c'mon!"

Rather bemused, Minerva wordlessly followed Tempest down the hallway, and into a large dining room with a glass chandelier overhead and a huge table that had been polished until it gleamed.

"Kreacher!" Tempest yelled, and with a sharp crack, the ugliest and oldest house elf that Minerva had ever seen, appeared with a crack a meter from them.

"Kreacher," Tempest said, "Could you get Minnie here something to drink? And she's a pureblood, so you don't have to put poison in her glass, alright?"

The elf gave Minerva a surly look, then disappeared with a ringing crack.

"Would he have-"

"Poisoned your drink?" Tempest grinned evilly, and Minerva was taken aback by just how much Tempest looked like Sirius just then.

"Of course he would have… Now I'll be taking my shower- see you later, Minnie! More people should be arriving soon…"

Tempest vanished through another door, and then there was the sound of thundering footsteps, which Minerva put down to Tempest mounting the stairs.

~Y._.Y~

Severus Snape glared at the piece of parchment before him. It was almost like it was mocking him, which he was _not_ ruling out. First of all, it was the sender of the letter, and second of all, it was the way it was written.

**_To: Random person in the Order of the Phoenix_**

**_Hey, Random person. So, according to our very own Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort is back, and dear old Fudgy is being a git, so all of this calls for a OP meeting._**

**_It'd be great if you could make it on Saturday at 8pm at OP headquarters! Obviously we've got the Fidelus Charm on the place, so on an enclosed piece of paper is our address. Bear in mind if you are not a member of the OP and you read the address, you will be burnt to ashes from the toes up._**

**_Just a friendly warning!_**

**_Very sincerely with no sarcasm whatsoever: Random other member in the Order of the Phoenix._**

Even though the letter was as good as anonymous, Tempestas Potter may as well have plastered her name all over the letter. It was in her insufferable so called wit imprinted into every line, inked into every word in fine black. Enclosed with the letter was a scrap of parchment with the same sprawly writing with three words on it.

**_12 Grimmauld Place_**

As soon as Severus finished reading the last word, the page burst into flames, making him curse and drop the flaming letter. It was painfully obvious, reading the letter. Tempest was now part of the Order of the Phoenix, a fact she was clearly not taking seriously.

There was a reason they called under seventeen's 'underage'- they were mere children! Yes, Severus knew that in the previous Wizarding war, Dumbledore had recruited the insufferable Marauders and Lily when they were all sixteen… but still, Tempest was only fifteen- actually fourteen, her birthday hadn't even come yet.

The girl was fourteen and she was a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

If Severus didn't already know the result, he would have stormed off to Dumbledore's office that very moment.

The old man would probably gabble some nonsense about Tempest's so-called early maturity and then offer him some sort of muggle sweet.

Did the man not _understand_ that regardless of no matter how many times the girl faced death and somehow escaped by sheer dumb luck she was still the same age? On the last day of the past year, straight after a traumatizing experience, the girl had pranked the entire school by spiking the food in the Great Hall with a weightless potion and sent all the students of Hogwarts floating near the ceiling for a good twenty minutes before Filtwick got them down.

With a sudden uncharacteristic smile, Severus leant back in his chair.

Lily had used to tease him for being overly mature, just because he was three weeks older than her.

_"It's not for how many years you've lived, Sev… It's how much you've done in them. For example- I'm more mature than you are, because I've been to France."_

_That's nice Lily, but this the daughter of James Potter… surely if that many near death experiences can't force some sense into her then a trip to France isn't going to help any._ Severus told the picture of Lily on his desk.

It was one of the only he had of her that he could bear to look at.

It was a picture of a ten year old Lily and Sev sitting on the old bald hill in their neighbourhood, the one with the huge shady oak at the top. Sev had never understood why it was called bald, seeing as it had something on it, but the entire town called it the bald hill, and who was he to change it?

The picture represented a time for Severus before they had gone to Hogwarts and he had become a Slytherin, before Lily had become a Gryffindor, and before either of them had met James-Bloody-Potter.

_Tempest is my daughter too, you know, Sev._ Ten year old Lily seemed to say, her emerald eyes staring straight at thirty five year old Severus.

_Yes, and she's insufferable, reckless, scruffy, and she is so much like Potter that I can barely even stand to look at her…_ Severus replied.

Severus stood, brushing ashes from the letter off his black robes and twisted on the spot to apparate.

He had been to the Black's house before, invited by Regulus Black, Black the elder's younger brother for a gathering with Lucius Malfoy discussing the Dark Lord, and so, as the rather imposing house appeared between numbers 11 and 13 in the street, Severus strode forwards, and taking a deep breath in, in a body that was not fifteen, he rapped sharply on the door.

Minerva McGonagall answered the door.

"Minerva," Severus said, hiding his shock behind a blank mask.

"Severus, how nice to see you," Minerva replied, stepping aside, and a bucket rolled away from the door, causing Severus to arch an eyebrow in question.

"Don't ask," Minerva sighed, closing the door behind him. "According to Mr Black, Tempest planned that."

"Charming," Severus drawled. "Are we the first here?"

"Yes, apparently. I am sure the others will be along soon, we two seem to be the most prompt-" Minerva glanced somewhere over her shoulder. "-Or fifteen minutes early. It's fifteen to, Severus, I suppose we are in for quite a wait."

"Fifteen minutes trapped in a house alone with Black and Potter," Severus said, glancing up. "Simply superb."

"Come, come, Severus," Minerva said as the two walked down the hallway, "as much as others say it, apart from her recklessness and her tendency to fall into trouble, Tempest doesn't really take after her father in so much as looks only… with Lily's temper, she's worse!"

Minerva laughed, and Severus gave a forced chuckle.

"Indeed- now, where is Black and Miss Potter- you would think, it being their house and all- what in the blazes is that?"

Music was pounding down from above, seeming to emanate from the very walls of the house, and Severus could discern, very faintly from above the music, the sounds of someone yelling above the din, shouting out words to the uneven beat of the music.

"Ah- that would be Tempest," Minerva said, stepping into a large dining room. "Apparently she was working on some sort of muggle contraption called a motorcycle, and when she greeted me, she was covered in oil… her and Sirius have gone to freshen up- and well… after having the girl live under my roof for four years, I know the sounds… Tempest likes to listen and sing along to muggle _rock_ bands while in the shower… she should be around done anytime soon, she's been playing that music for a while now."

"Indeed," Severus replied coolly, locking away the memories that struggled to resurface. Lily had used to sing in the shower, something Sev had always found awkward, especially that one particular Christmas morning…

~Y._.Y~

_Twenty-Five years ago._

"What are you doing for Christmas, Sev?"

Sev stared straight up into the clear blue sky. It was one of the rare days in winter when the sun decided it was tired of the clouds and cold and broke through sheets of darkness just for an hour or so. He never really liked sunny days, they were hot and dry, and too _bright_. But then again, sunny days also meant days spent outside with the single best thing that had ever happened to him. Every day that Sev glanced out of his grimy window and saw the sun beaming harshly down on him there inevitably would be a cheerful knock on his door, the angry drunken yell of his father, and then Lily would be there, beaming at him, asking cheerfully whether or not Sev was free to go fishing for eels, game for climbing the great oak, or whether he just wanted to _hang out_.

The answer was always undoubtedly yes.

"C'mon, it's not a hard question, Sev!"

"Dunno," Sev said evasively. "I haven't really talked about it with my own parents."

"_Sev._" Lily said. "You know just as well as I do that you can't lie."

Sev tugged on the edges of his coat nervously. "I can lie perfectly well, Lily, it's just you I can't lie to."

"Oh stop avoiding the question, Sev!" Lily laughed, brushing aside the thinly veiled compliment. "Are you free for Christmas? Because my mum told me to invite you over for dinner."

That stopped Sev in the middle of whatever had had been about to say. Violet and Harry Evans were the nicest people Sev had ever had the fortune to meet in his rather short ten years and they had accepted Lily's friendship with the odd son of the village drunkard who lived in the unfortunate Spinners End readily and had no qualms about him popping over whenever Eileen and Tobias Snape were fighting… but to invite him over for Christmas _dinner_ which was a purely family gathering… Sev had never thought that he would ever merit an invitation like that.

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Sev said automatically.

"Sev, you don't have to be so damn polite all the time!"

"Lily Violet Evans!" Sev said, scandalized. "What would your mother say?"

Lily gave a sheepish smile. "She doesn't need to know if no-one tells her… but I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you _are_ free for dinner."

Sev sighed. "I don't think that your sister would like that much."

"Oh, she'll have to come to terms with the fact that you're my friend and that she's going to be seeing an awful lot of you in years to come. _Soooo_, can you come?" Lily asked hopefully, sitting up and brushing snow off her coat, her emerald eyes gleaming.

A week later, Sev stood on the porch of the Evan's household, fidgeting awkwardly with the edges of his shirt.

He had spent hours trying to find something decent to wear, digging around in the attic for some clothes that had seen better days- the days before the old mill had been shut down, his father lost his job, and turned to the bottle. His search hadn't exactly been in vain as he had managed to find a shirt and jacket that fit with a lot of tucking and pulling. He had even attempted to tame his hair to look presentable.

He knocked.

"Severus!" Harry Evans greeted Sev cheerfully, pulling open the door.

"Merry Christmas, Mr Evans." Sev said, with an attempt at a smile.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Severus," replied Mr Evans, opening the door wider, "Come in, come in, Violet's just putting the finishing touches on the turkey and Lily's in the shower- perhaps you could help Petunia set the table? I am sure she would appreciate the help."

"Oh, I don't know that it would," Sev muttered under his breath. Louder he replied: "I'd love to, Mr Evans."

He followed Mr Evans through the bright hallway to the dining room.

Petunia Evans looked up as Sev entered, a sneer already curving on her lips. At the age of thirteen she considered herself superior to anyone younger, especially the boy from Spinner's end, the _freak_.

"You can put the silverware next to the plates," Petunia said as soon as Mr Evans had left. "You do know what _silverware_ is right, Snape?"

"Yes." Sev said flatly. Any other day, any other place Sev wouldn't have hesitated to retort with some sort of biting comment, but this was Lily's sister, and it was _Christmas_, and he was a guest in the Evans' house.

When they were done with the dishes, Petunia went into the kitchen to help Mrs Evans, and Sev had no motivation to follow her. He was only really there for Lily.

Who was still in the shower.

He could actually hear her, shouting something to the beat of some disjoint music, declaring her undying love to her shampoo bottle.

The water shut off, and then there was the sound of bare feet on the hardwood floor, and then Lily was bouncing down the stairs, her hair floating out behind her like a flaming halo and her eyes were shining like emeralds.

"Hey, Sna- Professor Snape!"

"Lily- what?"

Severus blinked.

Lily was _still_ there, she was staring at him with polite if not bemused concern, her green eyes inches from his own, black hair plastered down around her rather angular face and-

"_Hello? _Professor Snape?"

Severus jerked backwards as Lily Evans morphed into someone taller and in some ways, exactly the same, but different in every way that made him hate her.

Tempest Potter rocked back on her heels, raising her eyebrows and once again it hit Severus like an actual physical blow.

First it was Lily staring at Sev with concern and then it was Tempest, waving her hand in front of Severus's face, then Lily again, laughing at Sev, then Tempest, snapping her fingers in Severus's ears, and they were _exactly_ the same. The same light in the green eyes, the same smile, the same laugh, the same spirit…

…Lily had been there _all along_, staring straight at him. For the first time since fifth year, Lily Evans was staring straight back at him without a glare of hatred etched on her face.

…and he had never realized before.

~Y._.Y~

"_Hellooo?_" Tempest asked, one shy away from grabbing the ancient goblin made sword that hung on the wall opposite her and doing something drastic with it, _just_ to get Snape's attention.

The man had been standing there staring into empty space for approximately three minutes, and while Tempest didn't really care what he did in his own time- Snape _was_ standing in the middle of her home, and it was sort of creepy.

Usually Tempest liked to think of herself as logical, and logic dictated that she did not piss off powerful people who made bad potential enemies- therefore she did not wave hands in front of her eerie Potions professor's face, nor did she snap her fingers next to his greasy head just to try get his attention.

"Lily?"

Tempest blinked at Snape. Why on earth was he saying her mom's name? Unless of course he was talking about the actual flower lily. Which was unlikely.

"Uh, no, it's _Tempest_ actually- Professor Snape, are you alright?"

No reply.

Just more blank staring.

"Ohkay then… I'll just… go. I hope you, uh, feel better soon."

Tempest edged around Snape and headed to the dining room where she knew Minnie and Sirius were.

"Hey, Padfoot, what did you do to Snape?" Tempest whispered, gesturing behind her.

"Snape?" Sirius asked, his eyebrows crawling up his forehead. "I'm just avoiding that creep, which is sort of hard, seeing as he's in our house- but still, haven't done a thing to him. What's _he_ done?"

Tempest shrugged, walking over to the side cabinet and took out a bottle of firewhiskey, popping the cork out and taking a gulp.

"Tempest!"

Tempest froze in mid swallow, and her eyes slid sideways until they hit Minnie, who was staring at her with a scandalized expression on her face.

"Uh," Tempest said, glancing at the bottle in her hand. "Oops, uh, I don't usually drink firewhiskey- I was aiming for butterbeer- I'll just-"

Minnie was now glaring at Sirius, as though he was the instigator behind all the firewhiskey drinking. Which he was, but still.

Tempest slid the bottle back into the cabinet slowly and grabbed a bottle of butterbeer instead. She sighed quietly and turned back to the table. After drinking firewhiskey for so long with Sirius, butterbeer just tasted flat.

There was a knock on the front door.

"I got it!" Tempest yelled, slamming her bottle down and running out of the room. If she had to drink just _one_ more sip of butterbeer…

Tempest pulled open the front door, wondering where the bucket of water had gone. She _thought_ she had told Sirius to put it up, but ah well. It probably wouldn't have been taken well if it had emptied over Snape- or Minnie for that matter.

It was Remus, Arthur Weasley and a tall man who Tempest didn't recognize at all. She supposed he was trustworthy though, seeing as he was standing with Remus.

"Hey Moony, Mr Weasley-"

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," the man filled in, stepping forwards and shaking Tempest's hand.

"Right, just come in, the meeting-type-thing is in the dining room- and Moony, I need to talk to you!"

Tempest waved Mr Weasley and Shacklebolt over to the dining room, then grabbed Remus's arm and yanked him sideways into the Black family tree room. The room had always given Tempest a rather _cold_ feeling- there was no other way to put it, that was, until Sirius and her had introduced neon pink muggle spray paint to the room.

Remus blinked as he was pulled through the door from the forest green hallway into the neon explosion of the previously dark and spooky room that Sirius couldn't stand.

"I like what you've done with the room, Tempest," Remus began.

"Yeah, yeah, cut the crap- Moony, the next full moon-"

"No."

Remus's expression closed off, and he stared seriously at Tempest. "I can't believe I'm saying this Tempest, but I'm with Sirius on this one. No. It's way too dangerous."

Tempest sighed in exasperation. "I know you two keep on saying it, and you wouldn't for no reason, but it's starting to seem like that to me!"

"Tempest-"

"Moony, no, just shut up for a second and answer me this question, how have the past fourteen years of full moons been for you? Huh?"

"Tempest-"

"Like shit right?" Tempest gave a rather harsh laugh, "'Scuse my French, and don't go blaming Sirius for my language, but in all honestly Moony, it can't have been good for you, right? After five years of full moons where you _don't_ end up waking up in the morning completely shredded _by yourself_, you go through fourteen _more_ years of killing yourself, and now, when we have a chance to break that streak- you pass it up?"

"Tempest, it's not about me-"

Tempest shifted automatically, not realizing her pose was now offensive, rather than defensive. "Don't you get it, Moony? This _is_ about you, just accept that! This is about you, every full moon, being locked up in a room and tearing yourself to pieces! And if you want to somehow make this about _me_ then think about how much it kills _me_ to see you killing _you_ when I could do something about it!"

"Tempest, if you got bitten, it would ruin your life, for the _rest_ of your life-"

"You think I don't know that?" Tempest asked, "Isn't that the whole point of me _not being human for the night_?"

Remus sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "So, this was your plan? Corner me and pressure me into convincing Sirius to let you come?"

Tempest shrugged. "Two against one usually helps."

"And right now, the odds aren't in your favour, are they?" Remus asked, a smirk forming on his tired face.

"Well- hey, get back here, Moony! Moony!"

Laughing, Remus ducked out of the room and Tempest heard him greeting Sirius in the dining room.

Tempest sighed and followed.

"How'd you find the Order meeting?" Sirius asked over dinner that night.

"Long, and boring." Tempest replied, spearing a potato with her fork. "Does Dumbledore _enjoy_ telling us elaborate plans and then skipping out on the main point altogether?"

Sirius shrugged, sawing absentmindedly at his steak. "I'd get used to it, Tempest, he doesn't like being direct much."

Tempest sighed impatiently. "Yeah, I sort of realized that myself… but what I don't get, is why it is _so_ important to protect whatever it is in the Department of Mysteries, I mean, if he wants us to take it seriously, he should _tell _us what we're defending! He's got Podmore staked out on watch at all hours in the morning, Mr Weasley and Kingsley eying everyone entering the elevators at work… you'd think a man who asks for that much would actually just _explain_ what they're defending."

Sirius shook his head, a rather whimsical smile on his face. "That's not really how Dumbledore works. He expects everyone to just follow him blindly."

Tempest glanced over her glass of firewhiskey at Sirius. "You don't agree?"

Sirius shrugged. "Dumbledore… he usually knows what he's talking about, you know."

Tempest put down her fork. "So you think it's a good thing he's told both of us to stay _in_ this house, and not take a single step outside for the rest of the summer holidays?"

"Stultus caput nostrum est quaerere." Sirius said serenely, chewing on his steak.

Tempest stared at Sirius.

"Padfoot- did you… did you just speak latin?"

Sirius glanced at Tempest. "Subjugale mutum animal, quod sic te, ego loquemur Latine."

Tempest almost knocked over her glass of firewhiskey as she stood. "Bloody hell you did! I'm guessing there was some sort of insult in that sentence, though."

Sirius looked mildly impressed. "Nice, Temper, and yes. I called you a dumbass and Dumbledore an idiot."

"That's great!" Tempest enthused. "Where'd you learn it?"

"My dear mother," Sirius said darkly, motioning with his knife to somewhere behind him where his mother's portrait hung. "She taught me and Reg when I was ten and he was nine- said every pureblood should know how to speak it… ironically enough, when Reg got to Hogwarts, not a single pureblood in Slytherin was smart enough to string two insults together, much less speak Latin."

"Reg?" Tempest asked.

"Regulus Arcturus Black." Sirius said monotonously. "My dear perfect little death eater brother."

"Your brother was a death eater?" Tempest said in shock, sitting back down slowly.

"Oh not for long," Sirius said, an odd sort of smile creeping up on his face. "He died a few years into Voldemort's service. Apparently Voldemort sent him on some sort of mission, and dear old Reg couldn't handle it and went off and got himself killed."

"And you don't care?" Tempest asked, studying Sirius's face. "You don't care at all that your brother, who you probably grew up with and looked after, is dead following the lead of a maniac?"

Sirius didn't meet Tempest's eyes, merely studying his steak and potatoes intently. For a moment there was merely the sound of the clock in the hallway ticking, and the clink of Sirius's knife and fork on the plate.

"We weren't that close, Tempest," Sirius said eventually. "When we got to Hogwarts and I was sorted into Gryffindor, Reg stopped looking up to me and started following my mother around like a dog- ah the irony- and then he got sorted into Slytherin and ate up all their pureblood crap, and we just stopped talking- if we met in hallways, either he'd hex me first, or one of his Slytherin friends would, and when I retaliated it was me up against my brother… at home… I didn't go home much, I stayed at Prongs' for the holidays most of the time, and when I _was_ at home, mother was always down my neck, talking about my being a blood traitor, and my father, well, he'd always find a reason to use the cane as soon as he saw me."

Sirius pursed his lips. "So no, Tempest. I know it's not what you want to hear, but when I heard my brother died, I cared just about as much as I would if I heard Stan Shunpike was dead."

Tempest stared into the amber coloured liquid in her glass silently.

"Teach me Latin?" she said after a long pause.

Sirius dropped his knife with a clatter and turned to Tempest.

"What?"

"Teach me Latin," Tempest repeated. "It'll be fun, imagine it, we could hold entire conversations in front of other people without them knowing what the bloody hell we're talking about- It'll double my vocabulary for insulting people…"

"Tempest, I know as well as you do that your memory is worse than that of a flobberworm, and you expect to be able to memorize an entire language?"

"Teach me the insults first!" Tempest suggested. "I'm great at memorizing those, and then it'll give me a basis to learn the rest of the language!"

"Temper-"

"If I can map out the entire layout of our workshop/garage and recall the exact location of everything in it, I think I can remember a few sentences in a dead language."

Sirius sighed and finished the last of his potatoes, summoning Kreacher to take away their plates, ignoring the less than flattering muttering of the elf. "Alright, how's this Tempest, I'll teach you one word now, and if you can remember it in the morning, I'll teach you Latin, deal?"

Tempest grinned and stuck her hand out for Sirius to shake.

Sirius took it, and they shook once.

"Alright, so the word is _cimex._" Said Sirius.

"_Cimex._" Tempest mused. "So what does it mean?"

"Arsehole."

That night after Sirius said goodnight to Tempest and retired to his own room, Sirius propped up a small framed photo of James and Lily on their wedding day.

"If you were alive, Lily," Sirius said, running a hand through his hair, glancing at the photo, "I would be dead. I'm a terrible influence on her, hey I admit it! And James, I hope you forgive me for teaching your baby girl how to kick a guy's ass, but if she's going to survive with Voldemort out there again, she needs to know how to."

The photo Prongs and Married-to-Prongs merely smiled encouragingly and waved.

"Sometimes," Sirius grunted as he rolled over onto his side in bed, "I wonder how much you little photo people understand of the outside world."

Staring at the wall opposite him, Sirius continued. "Because if Lily could hear me right now, I'd be getting _my_ ass kicked."

~Y._.Y~

"Again."

Tempest dragged her forearm across her forehead, panting. "_Again?_ How long have we been doing this again?"

Sirius glanced at the clock on the wall. "Three hours, now keep going, Temper."

Tempest slammed her fist into the punching bag again half-heartedly, then collapsed against the bag, clinging to the rough material. "You tell me to punch this stupid bag one more time, Sirius, and I swear, I will personally ensure you will never reproduce."

Sirius grinned. "That's the spirit, Temper."

Tempest glared in Sirius's direction, then punched the bag again. "If-Riddle-Attacked-Right-Now," Tempest panted, "He-would-be-in-so-much-trouble."

"I'll bet on it," Sirius said, a wry smile on his face. "Now keep punching that bag, Temper."

"Cimex." Tempest muttered under her breath as she continued to punch the bag, cursing the fact that Sirius had transfigured the chandelier in the spare room into a punching bag, and that it was no lighter for the fact.

As flattered as Tempest was that Sirius was willing to take time away from the motorbike to teach her his so called 'self-defence' Tempest really wished he hadn't bothered. _Just_ because she was a female, Sirius thought she was _so_ much more vulnerable, therefore needed training for physical defence.

After all, as Sirius put it, if Tempest found herself wandless, at least she knew how to use a pocket-knife to gut a man, kick an attacker where it counted, or more or less do whatever necessary to neutralize the assailant.

The only reason Tempest hadn't given up already was the memory of Lily Potter, cornered by Riddle, wandless. If it had been Tempest… she would probably have done something stupid like punching the dark lord in the face then running for it.

Tempest almost preferred her becoming an animagus, which was basically hours staring at the same wall, concentrating on her 'inner-self' and meditating, until one day, Tempest fell asleep meditating and woke up a wolf.

Except, Tempest had never been less wolf-like at the moment, and more like a rather stupid fourteen year old with strips of cloth wrapped around her knuckles and punching a bag that used to be made of crystal.

"C'mon Tempest! Ten more minutes!"

Tempest scowled out of sight. "You said that twenty minutes ago, Sirius, I look at the clock too you know. That is _it_, I am done for the day, and now, if you'll excuse me, I want to go take a nice long shower, and pretend that I am drowning you."

"Fifty more punches, Tempest- then you can go, just fifty… go on," Sirius said, blocking the doorway.

Tempest shook her head in disbelief, then took two steps forwards and slammed her knee into Sirius's gut.

Sirius swore filthy in Latin (or at least Tempest supposed he swore, she didn't understand half the words,) and staggered to the side, letting Tempest slip past, smirking.

Then a hand closed around her ankle, and she tripped, her head slamming into a wall with a crack.

Slightly dizzy, Tempest kicked Sirius off, only to have him tackle her, while still wheezing for breath. Tempest swore (in English) and transformed into Temper, wiggling free from underneath Sirius.

Temper yipped, and raced for the stairs, taking them three at a time. Sirius would _not _be able to catch her now-

There was a deep bark from beneath her, and then Temper saw Padfoot hurtling up the stairs, after her. Temper had a head start, but she had just stopped, and Padfoot had longer legs-

Padfoot slammed into Temper, sending the two tumbling across the landing, barely missing the top of the stairs.

Temper, being the smaller of the two managed to squeeze out of Padfoot's attempt to pin her down, and she skid to a stop ten meters away from Padfoot.

As both were members of the dog family, they could both read each other's body language, to a point at least. Temper cocked an ear, shifting her hind legs and angling her muzzle skyward, which basically meant- _So this is what I have to go through to get a shower after a three hour plus workout which I didn't want in the first place?_

Padfoot huffed a heavy sigh, then pawed at the ground with his right forepaw. _Well, if you had just done another ten minutes-_

Temper barked a laugh, revealing her fangs in a wolfish smile. _I know you, Padfoot. Another ten minutes may as well be another ten hours- especially if you aren't doing anything, and all you need to do is watch._

Padfoot avoided Temper's silver eyes, instead pointing his muzzle at the ground rather sheepishly. _Not really ten h_ours_, that would be a _bit_ much._

Temper rolled her eyes. _Cimex._

Padfoot heaved another heavy sigh. _I knew I never should have taught you that word._

Another eye roll. _Yeah, whatever, can I take that shower now? I feel disgusting._

Padfoot shrugged and turned away, padding down the stairs. _Do whatever, Temper, I'm going for a lie down by the fire._

Temper shifted back into Tempest, who gave a sigh of relief. "You are such a dog at heart, Sirius."

An echoing bark from downstairs didn't need Tempest to be Temper to understand.

_You know you love me!_

The following night, Tempest pretended to eat her dinner, then retired early to bed.

She knew that Sirius would most likely have spiked her food with sleeping potion as an extra precaution, just to make sure she was out of action for the full moon.

Tempest made a huge show of yawning excessively, then collapsing on her bed still fully dressed. She knew Remus would arrive at 12 Grimmauld Place first, and then he and Sirius would apparate to the woods nearby and set up wards for the night.

Sleeping potion or no, Tempest knew she had promised not to follow Sirius and Remus, and she never broke her promises.

That did not mean she wasn't allowed to find loopholes though.

Tempest had sworn not to _follow_ the other two Marauders. So she wouldn't. She'd get there first.

Tempest had been practicing apparating and disaparating, and as the trace was active- only in Little Whinging- Tempest hadn't splinched again like the first time. It was a great help to be able to apparate here and there. She and Sirius didn't exactly agree with Dumbledore's orders to remain inside, after all, while they respected the old man, he didn't dictate every waking moment of their lives. Already she and Sirius had been out several times in disguise to the local market just to stock up on food and supplies. Sirius didn't trust Kreacher to do the shopping.

Tempest lay in bed, staring straight up to the dark ceiling above her, waiting.

There was a knock on the door.

"Hey, Moony, Tempest's upstairs- I slipped her a sleeping potion, c'mon, let's go."

Tempest grinned to herself as she heard Remus's muted reply and then the front door slammed close and there was the familiar crack of apparition.

Tempest counted to ten slowly, then grabbed her wand and threw off the bedcovers. She hurtled down the stairs only slowing as she reached the portrait of Sirius's mother. Tempest inched past, then cracked open the front door.

The street outside was empty.

"Acetabulis," Tempest smirked. _Suckers._

She ran down the stone steps then spun on the spot feeling the horrible sensation of being squeezed through a tiny tunnel and the feeling grew until it was almost unbearable- and then Tempest staggered on the uneven tree roots as she appeared next to what looked like a maple tree.

"What was that?"

Tempest cursed and shifted to Temper, backing back into the shadows as Sirius came into view, followed by Remus who was pale and shaking.

"I've cast all the wards, the moon rises in a minute, Padfoot- you'd better-"

A scream tore out of Remus's throat, cutting him off mid-sentence and he doubled over a snarl seeming to force itself out of his chest.

The moon broke through the trees, hitting Remus directly and as Sirius cursed and backed away, turning into Padfoot, fur began to spout over Remus's back, his face elongating horribly, his hands bending backwards with sickening cracks and his screams became more and more like growls.

And then it was over.

As Temper, she cursed her sharper eyesight as she stared at the monster that stood before her.

She knew it was Remus, she knew it was just Moony, but she had never expected to not see a hint of the human in the horrible yellow eyes that stared straight at her in the moonlight.

Temper shrunk back, paralyzing terror almost freezing her in place. She knew Moony could see her perfectly well, regardless of the darkness. She could see his head turning, the pointed ears angling in her direction and she could hear Moony sniffing at the air.

And then Padfoot was barking, and Moony's head snapped in the dog's direction, and Tempest knew something was wrong instantly.

In Sirius's tales, Moony had always chased Prongs and he, but it was always playful, almost like a rough and tumble type thing and Moony had never lost his mind like he usually did by himself. It was almost like a bit of Remus came out in Moony just for a while, just for long enough so that Moony didn't seriously maim them.

Now, there was nothing remotely controlled about Moony at all. Temper could tell by the way his head cocked in Padfoot's direction and the growl that built up in the throat of the werewolf…

… and then Moony lunged for Padfoot and his outstretched claws missed Padfoot's leg by inches, and then Padfoot took off into the woods with Moony inches from his tail, and Temper knew there was no way that Padfoot could outrun Moony. Moony was built for running, she could tell just by the look of Moony's hind legs, and in retrospect, Padfoot was little better than a human on legs for running. When Moony caught Padfoot-

Temper unfroze and took off after Moony, bounding through the woods, following Moony's trademark scent and the sound of snapping wood, and then Temper heard a sound that made her throat dry up and her heart feel like someone was standing on it.

There was a sharp crack that Temper _knew_ was not a branch and then she heard Padfoot whine.

It was like dead instinct that sent Temper hurtling through the trees and slamming into Moony, and then her mind caught up with her body, and Tempest hit Moony, knocking him off Padfoot, who had been pinned to the ground.

Moony snarled, and rounded on Temper, his jaws dripping saliva as he slavered at the smaller wolf.

_Calm down, Moony_, Temper thought, backing away slightly. _Just calm-_

Moony lunged, and Temper lost her nerve, whirled around, and bolted.

She wasn't really concentrating on outrunning Moony- that was insane, after all, werewolves were _built_ for running, and while Temper was more suited for running through forests than Padfoot, she didn't have a chance in heaven beating Moony in a race- all she really wanted to do is lead Moony _away_ from Padfoot.

Temper wove through the trees, not daring to look behind her, knowing that Moony was following, merely inches behind her.

Then there was the cracking of branches from the side, and Temper chanced a quick look to her left, and to her amazement she saw Padfoot running alongside her, seeming to be favouring his right foreleg, but running nevertheless, and Temper gave a questioning bark with what air she had left in her lungs, to which Padfoot merely gave an angry growl.

_Pissed at me for sneaking out?_ Temper asked.

She missed Padfoot's reply, but she guessed it wasn't polite.

After what seemed like running for hours, Tempest felt an almost _detectable_ shift in Moony as the werewolf slowed.

Tempest gave a sharp bark, angling her head towards Moony. _What's going on?_

_He's finally calmed down,_ Padfoot replied, gesturing with his head back to Moony, slowing his own pace so that Tempest shot past him before she doubled back, panting.

Temper didn't exactly understand why Moony had slowed, or maybe it was just because he had burnt off all of his energy- she wouldn't blame him, because she was exhausted and on the point of collapse. If this is what the Marauders did, or used to do, every full moon, then they must have been _pretty_ fit.

~Y._.Y~

Tempest flopped down on the plush couch in the spacious living room. She knew Sirius was furious at her, and Remus _would_ be- once he woke up- but at the moment she was _just too tired to care_.

Sirius stumbled down the stairs and ignoring Tempest, walked straight into the kitchen, where Tempest heard him crashing about and the sound of something breaking, then Sirius walked back into the living room and slumped down on the armchair opposite Tempest.

"So, what? You're just not going to talk to me?" Tempest asked incredulously. "Not even swear at me in Latin?"

Sirius threw down a glass of firewhiskey that Tempest hadn't realized he was holding and it smashed against the wood floor, the crystal shards tinkling against the floor. "Damn it, Tempest- it's not a joke!"

"As the Marauders, isn't that the point?" Tempest laughed.

She faltered at the look on Sirius's face.

"C'mon, Sirius, sarcasm? I. Use. Sarcasm. As. A. Defence. When. I. Feel. Nervous? Insecure?" Tempest sighed. "Alright, look Sirius, point of my argument is that end of day- or beginning of next day, depending on perspective- Remus didn't end up half-dead because of Moony this full moon, _you_ didn't end up as Moony's chew toy, and I wasn't killed- everybody won today!"

Sirius didn't reply.


	16. Chapter 16

**It's Your Life. Live it.**

C2: We will be who we will be.

"Sirius still isn't talking to me," Tempest sighed.

"I'm sure he's just over-reacting," George replied, kicking his feet up on Tempest's bed, "Why exactly is he mad again?"

"Feet _off_ my mattress, and that's strictly between Sirius and me."

George rolled his eyes and held his hands up defensively. "Spines down, Hedgy- yeesh, I'm not wearing my armour!"

"Whatever, George," Tempest replied, ignoring her own warning, and propping her feet up on her bed frame. So far, apart from Remus and Sirius, no one knew of her illegal animagus status, hence she couldn't tell George the whole story, only the part where Sirius had gone all hissy and refused to talk to her.

Whenever she tried to broach a conversation, she was reciprocated with non-comitial grunts and single word answers. Remus wasn't as bad, after the initial fury and disappointment, he had accepted that Tempest hadn't been hurt in any way, had in fact saved Padfoot's life, and therefore there was nothing to worry about.

Sadly, Sirius didn't seem to grasp that concept.

It wasn't like Tempest had broken her promise, and it wasn't like she was going to _stop_ helping every full moon, and it wasn't like anyone had gotten hurt _because_ of her helping- on the contrary, she had saved Padfoot's life!

Amazingly enough, Sirius only had a broken wrist, which they had splinted, meaning he was perfectly fine. After all, they couldn't exactly cart a wanted criminal off to St Mungo's.

Tempest sighed and stood up, stretching, "In any case, do you want to go downstairs get a fire- I mean, butterbeer?"

George laughed, standing too. "Hedgy, I came of age in _April_, and I've been drinking firewhiskey since I was thirteen- more to the point is to make sure Fred hasn't eaten all the food in the house."

"Oh, Sirius will have taken care of that already- it's a miracle we haven't starved to death already."

"That may be, but I've lived with Fred for my entire life, I'd know- hey, what's that?"

George bent over and picked up something that had fallen to the ground as Tempest stretched. "What's this?"

Tempest turned from the doorway grinning. "What's what?"

"This."

The smile faded from Tempest's face as she saw what George was holding.

"Nothing important," Tempest said, snatching the necklace out of George's hand. "Just a random uh, trinket."

"It's a snake," George said sceptically. "Why would you buy a necklace with a _diamond_ snake? It must have cost hundreds of galleons- and for a _snake_?"

"Yeah, uh," Tempest slipped the necklace into her pocket. "Family heirloom… Sirius's. George-"

"Yeah?"

Tempest had to struggle for words for a moment, the image of Draco's necklace still imprinted in her mind.

"George… If you're waiting for-" Tempest took a breath. "If you're waiting for a bus that you know will never arrive… what would you do?"

George stared at Tempest, almost as if he understood what exactly Tempest was asking.

"I would walk."

"You would?"

"Tempest, are you talking about Malfoy?"

Tempest's head snapped around to look at George. "Why would you think that? I'm talking about buses." Tempest said a bit too quickly. "Muggle transportation is _so_ slow, and I wouldn't take the Knight Bus even if you were holding a wand to my throat… and you just called me Tempest."

"Sure, Hedgy." George said with a touch of his old humour. "You're not over him, are you?"

Tempest gapped at George. "There's nothing to get over! Besides, even if there was, it wouldn't be any of your business."

George shrugged. "I'm your best friend, Hedgy, it sort of is."

Tempest gave a rather harsh laugh. "Fine, but it barely qualified as a relationship, George- we barely went on one date, maybe one and a half… and we were only supposedly involved for one month! He lied for all of it, so it wouldn't even be logical to miss him! Could we drop it?"

"Alright!" George said defensively, taking a step back. "I was just worried is all."

"_Thank_ you, George," Tempest said, letting out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. "Now could we _go_? Ron and Hermione are downstairs too and seeing as we've left them alone for half an hour I wouldn't be surprised if Hermione hasn't bitten his head off yet."

"Hang on," George said with the air of an impending doom. "If you two only went on one date… and you were together for a month… I saw you two together _all_ the time… did you two… you know… _you know_…"

"_What?_" Tempest gasped.

"**_What?_**"

Tempest whirled around, only to see Sirius standing there, water dripping from his hair without a shred of clothing on him, apart from a towel draped loosely around his waist.

"Sirius!"

"_What?_" Sirius repeated, completely oblivious to his state of undress.

"You're half naked!"

"You had sex with a boy?" Sirius said aghast.

"**_Sirius!_**" Tempest repeated in horror, alternating between being furious at George and disbelieving at Sirius. "I- _Sirius!_"

"Wha-" Sirius glanced down at himself as though only just realizing. "This is nothing, James used to walk around completely starkers with no towel at all- I just got out of the shower- oh who cares! Tempest, I can't believe you! You had _sex_ with Lucius Malfoy's son?!"

"I DID NOT!" Tempest almost yelled. "I don't know what the hell either of you are talking about! I have _never_ had sex with anyone, much less Draco! I cannot believe I am having this conversation!"

"I didn't mean that you had shagged him!" George broke in, "I meant whether you'd snogged him or not!"

Tempest rounded on George, "_It's none of your business!_" she repeated, "And for your information, you've seen us kissing thousands of times!"

"So you snogged a boy?" Sirius said loudly. "That's even worse!"

"How is that worse?" Tempest asked, beyond disbelief.

"I don't know!" Sirius said, gesturing wildly. "You're Prongs' kid! You don't go around snogging boys!"

"It's none of your business- how many times do I have to say it? _Sirius,_ you knew I used to go out with Draco!"

"Yeah I knew you went out, but I didn't know you… you did stuff!"

"Does it matter?" Tempest shouted, "It doesn't concern either of you!"

"Yes it does!" Sirius yelled. "You're fifteen, Tempest! People are going to start realizing that you're a girl- a _hot_ girl- and they're not going to let that pass!"

Tempest was running out of emotions to feel. "What the hell are you talking about, Sirius?"

Sirius rounded on George. "You- George- you're a guy, you're a teenager- tell her, and be honest- is she hot?"

"Wha- you-"

"Just answer the question, George!" Sirius said, ignoring Tempest.

"I-" George glanced at Tempest, then at Sirius, as though weighing the potions between pissing off someone who had been labelled a murderer, or a girl who looked positively animalistic and millimetres away from tearing off his face if he answered with even the remotest flattery.

If he complimented Tempest, which was ridiculously easy- then Sirius would be content, and yet angry at the same time that he thought Tempest was hot, but Tempest would be furious too, and if he said nothing then Tempest would be satisfied but Sirius would probably hex him to next week.

If only Tempest wasn't so… so Tempest like.

~Y._.Y~

_Four years ago._

George hadn't really thought much of Tempestas Potter, after all, they weren't in the same year, nor did he see her much. All he could really pull to mind when someone brought up the famous girl-who-lived was the too-skinny girl who looked more like a boy with shaggy hair trying to lug a huge suitcase up into the train. She had seemed likeable enough, and had a good sense of humour, but that was all George could remember.

He knew his little whingey pipsqueak of a brother was obsessed with the idea of becoming friends with the Potter girl, but hadn't been having much luck. Apparently the famous girl wasn't very open and didn't like all the attention and admiration that people were pouring on her. She was openly sarcastic, and nobody seemed to be able to get close to her.

George couldn't really relate. He and Fred loved the attention they got when they pranked and got away with it. They were wildly popular too. Something George was insanely smug about to Ron.

In the next few weeks, all he heard or saw of Potter was the sight of the back of her messy head in hallways (and she was always alone, George had always found that rather odd) and the occasional rumour that Potter was in fact a vampire impersonating the actual girl.

-and then suddenly Wood approached he and Fred, telling them that Tempest was the new Seeker of their team.

To be completely honest, George wasn't all that impressed. Sure Wood had waxed on and on about the girl's supposed brilliance, but after cornering the girl for details, George wasn't that sure that she would be quite suited for the violent game that was Quidditch. She didn't seem to take much seriously, always sidling away when attention turned to her (which wasn't what you wanted as a Seeker) and snapping retorts whenever anyone asked her about herself.

That didn't exactly make for great teamwork.

Then there was the Halloween incident, which George only heard snippets of from Ron. Apparently the git had insulted some first year girl, who had run off crying, and then Quirrel had done a fainter after screaming to the entire Great Hall that there was a troll in the dungeons… and then that was when it got complicated.

Apparently Tempest had shot off to the girls bathroom to warn the Granger girl on some split second decision and then when McGonagall and Snape arrived ten minutes later they found one slightly hysterical girl, an unconscious mountain troll and the girl-who-lived hanging over the door of a bathroom stall (which George imagined wasn't very comfortable) in the wreckage of the girl's bathroom.

After that, to George's baby brother's chagrin, the swotty stuck up, know it all muggle-born girl was friends with Tempest Potter, which Fred commented rather fit. After all, both girls were loners and rather standoffish, so they were perfect for each other.

-and then barely a few weeks later, there was the first Quidditch game. George had seen Tempest fly, and had to admit that the girl was fast and a great flyer, and much tougher than she looked, but George still wasn't completely convinced that Tempest would survive the first brutal game against Slytherin.

George still laughed at himself when he thought back in time.

"Okay, men," Wood began in the locker room where they were all changing into their scarlet Quidditch robes.

"And women," said Angelina. (George knew Fred had a crush on her, only the prat was too shy to ask her out, and kept on moaning to him about how hot she was.)

"And women," Wood agreed. "This is it."

"The big one," said Fred, wiggling his eyebrows pointedly in George's direction.

"The one we've all been waiting for," George filled in, grinning back at his twin.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," George heard Fred telling Tempest, "We were on the team last year."

George thought he heard her reply, but missed it as Wood carried on, ignoring their antics.

"This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it."

George glanced at Tempest, who he thought looked as white as a sheet. Obviously as the Seeker she had a lot of pressure on her tiny shoulders.

"Don't worry," George said, falling into step beside Tempest as they all filed out onto the Quidditch Pitch. "If you fall, I'll catch you."

Tempest gave a rather nervous laugh- the first time, George reflected, that he had ever seen her come close to smiling- "Is that meant to be a reassurance or something to _make_ me fall off?"

"It might be best if you believe the first," Fred piped up, coming up behind George. "My brother the joker… if you weren't on our team he'd have you in a headlock already."

"Or he could try," Tempest retorted, and George faltered slightly as he saw something flash in the girl's eyes, then it was gone and there was a slight smile playing about her lips and the shy and mysterious girl suddenly looked positively devious.

"Did you see that?" George hissed to Fred as they lined up in front of Hooch who was refereeing.

"See what?" Fred asked, adjusting his grip on his beater's bat.

"Potter," George said impatiently nudging his bat in Tempest's direction. "Just before- she looked almost evil."

"Well," Fred said, mounting his broom and waiting for the whistle. "This is the girl that took on a full grown mountain troll."

"Right," George said, mounting his own broom. "I forgot that."

The whistle blew and George kicked off the ground, eying the Slytherin beaters. They looked rather imposing, but from previous experience, George knew that just as they both resembled trolls, they were about as intelligent as a pair of trolls.

He set off instantly for the bludger closest to him, the smooth leather grip of the bat in his hand, and then he felt the satisfying shock as the bat hit the bludger with a powerful crack.

The bludger flew towards Flint, and George let a vicious grin creep across his face as he shot off alongside the Chasers, slamming the bludgers away from them as they spiralled around the field.

George could hear Lee commentating, and McGonagall growing increasingly annoyed.

George sent a bludger spinning towards Pasty or Pucey or whichever it was, and he heard Lee cheering him on, calling him Fred- but George didn't really mind, because as Angelina ducked the failing arms of the Slytherin keeper-

"GRFFINDORS SCORE!" Lee yelled, and the Gryffindors on the stands rose up in a wave of red and gold, deafening George.

"Fred, if you want to date that girl, I give you my full blessing!" George roared above the crowd.

"Good to know!" Fred yelled back, giving an underarm blow to a bludger that whistled by him, and sending it slamming into the gut of the Slytherin seeker.

"-and Potter has spotted the Snitch! Now, can someone tell me whether that there is a girl or a boy- because I _cannot_ tell the difference-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor, sorry, but she _has_ seen the Snitch-"

George rolled his eyes, then ducked as Tempest shot by him, making him flatten against his broom. _When_ had the girl gotten a Nimbus Two Thousand?

Then there was a resounding cry of outrage from the stands and George twisted on his broom to see Tempest swerve sideways as Flint almost crashed into her.

"Foul!" George found himself yelling along with the rest of Gryffindor as he saw Tempest do a three sixty roll in the air to merely stay on her broom.

That was when George started watching her.

Not in the creepy stalker way- he still had to keep an eye on the bludger and the Gryffindor Chasers at the same time, but it was almost fascinating following Tempest's path through the air. Wood had told her to stay out of the way of the Slytherin players to make herself less of a target, but it was obvious that plan wasn't really working.

On the rare moments that the Slytherin beaters got a good shot in on the bludgers, they weren't aimed at the chasers anymore, all of them were directed at Tempest.

George yanked on the hilt of his broom, edging it upwards so that he could intercept the bludgers but Tempest wasn't staying still long enough, almost like her broom was trying to buck her off.

"What's going on?" George yelled up at her, ducking her leg, which missed his head by mere inches.

"Don't you think I should be the one asking that question?" Tempest yelled with impressive volume due to her size, and George was taken aback by the almost wild look in her eyes.

So this was Tempest Potter all shields and defences down.

George rather liked this Tempest. She looked slightly unhinged with a flaming temper, which never failed with him.

"What's wrong with your broom?"

"What's wrong with your face?" Tempest retorted "It's gone insane, that's what!"

She cussed with words George had never heard used in that context before as something whistled by his ear and the bludger missed Tempest's head by inches.

"Give me your bat!"

"What?"

"Chuck me your bat!" Tempest shouted, her broom bucking about as though it had a personal grudge against her. "I can't duck damn bludgers and stay on this broom at the same time!"

"You're insane!" George yelled, "You need to get closer to the ground, you can't stay on much longer!"

"I. Can't. Control. The. Broom!" Tempest hollered back, "Isn't that bloody clear yet?"

George glanced around desperately, but amazingly enough, while the people on the stands were screaming incomprehensively, pointing at her, no one in the air seemed to see Tempest was being almost thrown off her broom…

"Bat! NOW!"

George almost slipped off his own broom as the Slytherin beater slammed the bludger over towards Tempest and George abandoned all rationality as he drew his arm back, and instead of rounding on the Slytherin beater, he hurled his bat up to Tempest. He didn't even know if Tempest would be able to catch it, or whether her broom would send her directly into the path of the bat and knock her head clean off-

-and then Tempest leant sideways just as her broom gave another jolt, her wrist hit the edge of the bat, and then her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the bat, and in the same motion, she swung the bat one-handed into the bludger which was flying towards her. The bat met the bludger with a deafening crack, and the bludger sailed away in the direction of the Slytherin goalposts.

Tempest dropped the bat as her broom jerked to the side, and George swore he felt his heart slip into his mouth as Tempest slipped and all four of her limbs left her broom, leaving her barely hanging on to the broom by the tips of her fingers.

George wasn't exactly sure what happened next, after all, it was too amazing to be _true_, yet too outlandish for him to imagine…

Tempest somehow managed to pull herself back up onto her broom using only the strength in her fingertips, and then she was balanced precariously on the balls of her feet, her arms outstretched, off the hilt of the broom, something that even the twins had never done, even on a steady broom-

"Catch me!"

-and then she jumped off her broom.

_She jumped off her broom._

If the world had shrunk in the span of half a second, and narrowed down to the image of the completely _mental_ girl freefalling through the air and the fact that if George remained where he was, she would miss him by several meters and meet a gruesome death by falling from around two hundred feet and hitting the ground, George wouldn't have been surprised.

Even the sound of the crowd screaming was muted now as George yanked his broom around, urging his too-slow broom around just so he could get directly underneath-

-and then the girl had slammed into him, and was sliding off the broom, and George grabbed her around the waist, somehow managing to drag her back on, only she was waving her left arm in the air, almost taking off George's head-

-and George caught a glimpse of gold in her palm, and then the entire Gryffindor team descended upon them cheering.

George landed, and Tempest was gone within seconds, obviously not liking the attention or the questions that were being yelled at her by around a thousand throats.

"What _was_ that?" Fred asked, stumbling out of the crowd next to George.

George didn't reply for a moment, merely staring after Tempest. Just before she had rushed off, she had clapped him on the shoulder with a quick, "Thanks for the catch, Georgie pie."

George shook his head, trying to clear it. "That, Fred… that was me just falling in love."

Fred raised his eyebrows, tilting his head at the disappearing back of Tempest. "I dunno, George… she's not bad to look at… but an ickle firstie? Really?"

"Believe me," George said, still focusing on trying to close his mouth, "that's the girl I'm going to marry."

~Y._.Y~

_Five or six months ago._

Looking back, George couldn't remember why he still hadn't asked Tempest out. After all, he had spent the past three years living in the same tower as her, and spending most breakfasts, lunches and dinners sitting next to her, but somehow he had always managed to find an excuse.

Third year, as Fred kept reminding him, it would have been perverted and weird to ask her out, fourth year, Tempest was revealed as a Parselmouth, and George _knew_ that what with everything else that was going on, being asked out by one of her few friends was _not_ what she needed right then, then fifth year, and George was running out of excuses to not ask Tempest out.

If he was completely honest with himself, which he rarely was, George was almost terrified of asking Tempest out.

George had no real rational reason, after all, he was trickster, prankster and mischief maker extraordinaire and he had been out with dozens with girls- it shouldn't be hard to ask Tempest out, it was just a few words said, and then what happened after would happen… and George said that to himself every day for the entire year, and completely missed his chance.

There were the OWLS to take into consideration, and George was torn between doing what he and Fred had always planned to do, which was just turn up for the tests and write whatever on the test papers- and that required no extra concentration whatsoever, which suited George just fine- but then, to his horror, George started thinking of Tempest.

If he tried… if he actually paid attention to the OWLS…

He got five OWLS while Fred got one E in DADA, and while George had to force his over-active mind to concentrate it was worth it, seeing the look of surprised pride on Tempest's face as she had tackled him with a fierce hug.

George had wanted to ask her out right away, then his nerve had failed him and he hadn't. It was his sixth year now, and as he and Fred had discussed dropping their NEWTS and not coming back for seventh year, it was his last chance to ask Tempest out.

But then more problems arose.

Namely, Tempest started… getting hotter.

When the Yule Ball was announced, George's mind had leapt to Tempest, and so had all the male population of Hogwarts. It seemed that the penny had finally dropped, and everyone third year and up (and even some deluded second and first years) was falling in love with her.

Some of the conversations that George overheard from other sixth years was insane. As if Tempest would go to the ball with McLaggen, a fifth year Gryffindor who was as thick as a giant and couldn't tell a broom from a branch, nor would she go with Diggory, the Hufflepuff git who had beaten them last year, and George could _not_ see Tempest going out with any of the guys in her year. Her going out with Ron was laughable, and neither Thomas or the Sean boy were her type…

_No_, no one was Tempest's type really, she was intelligent, she was funny, she was unpredictable, she was sarcastic to the point where her tongue could have been carved from razor blades and she was _so_ unbelievably _hot_.

Everyone George saw ask Tempest out made him want to burst out laughing. The short Ravenclaw sixth year? The stocky Hufflepuff keeper? Even the tiny Creevy boy asked her to the ball.

And then, on the very day that George had finally decided to throw caution to the winds and ask Tempest to the ball, he had heard from Ron that Tempest had claimed she was already going with someone else.

George had felt like dying.

He actually considered the prospect.

George didn't know who Tempest was going with, didn't even know which house he was in, but he did know that Tempest would not have accepted just anyone, and that in itself was like a punch in the gut.

Whoever Tempest would even _consider_ for the tiniest second was serious, and anyone who she would actually _accept_ meant that George was doomed.

Fred wasn't very understanding at all. He had Angelina, and still hadn't really forgiven him for the OWL incident yet .

So George tried to pull Tempest back. He knew enough about her to know that he had lost his chance to ask her to the ball, but he was still her friend, and he intended to keep it that way no matter what. The past few years, Fred had tried to keep George at a distance from Tempest, calling his brother a love struck fool, but now, it didn't really matter anymore. So George had tried to pull Tempest in with him and Fred, planning pranks every other day and sitting together every day…

That didn't mean that when George saw Tempest at the Yule ball his heart didn't stop though.

When George saw Tempest coming through the doors of the Great Hall, his heart stopped.

"Who's that next to her?" George muttered to Fred, trying to tear his eyes away from Tempest. She looked _beautiful_, not just because of the fancy makeup, the weird shoes and nice dress, but just the way she was smiling, the way she was walking down the rows of tables, not slightly hunched in on herself, actually straight and confident… her hair was out of her face for once, and she was-

"Malfoy?"

"Who cares about Malfoy?" George said impatiently, eyes still fixed on Tempest.

"It's _Malfoy_! She's there with _Malfoy_."

"WHAT?" George exclaimed, blinking, the dream shattering around him and reality returned with brutal reality. He all but shoved Fred out of the way to see-

-exactly what Fred had said.

_Malfoy_ was walking next to Tempest, _arm in arm_. And Tempest was smiling. Smiling in a way that made George's throat constrict. _How_ on earth had _Malfoy_ gotten Tempest to go with him? Or no, that wasn't really the question- _Why_ on earth had _Tempest_ gone with Malfoy?

Tempest was a great actor -something that George never understood, because Tempest was a shit liar- so George knew she could be pretending to enjoy herself with Malfoy, but no. Tempest didn't _act_ all happy and smiling _in that way_…

"Dunno, mate," Fred replied, "But they're sitting next to Percy and seem to be getting along _pretty_ well."

"Pretty well?" George asked, "What does that mean? Does that mean pretty well she isn't punching him in the face? Pretty well they're snogging in front of the entire hall? Pretty well Malfoy's just dropped dead? Pretty well _what_?"

"Pretty well she hasn't punched him in the face, _yet._"

"Oh, that's not good," George moaned, sinking down lower in his seat.

"What's up?"

Angelina slid into the empty seat next to Fred, but George didn't even look up as Fred greeted her.

"Oh, George is all moony-eyed over Tempest," Fred said, waving his hands in Tempest's direction.

"I am _not_ moony-eyed," George protested half-heartedly, still staring at Tempest, who was _laughing. _And it was a proper laugh, a genuine laugh, not the mocking, cynical bark of laughter Tempest used in public… and George knew for a fact that Tempest never laughed like that with just anyone, much less Malfoy.

"Sure, mate, sure, I'll just go get a mirror, and then maybe you'll see what I see."

"You have a crush on Tempest?" Angelina asked, glancing up to the staff table, her eyebrows raised.

"Believe me, if George wasn't so insecure, they'd be going at it in a broom closet right now," Fred laughed.

George managed to drag his eyes away from Tempest long enough to glare at his twin. "In which universe am I _insecure_? And don't talk about Tempest like that."

"Since you've had a crush on her for almost four whole years and haven't said a single word to her about it," Fred retorted, slinging an arm around Angelina's shoulders.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't matter much anymore," George sighed, glancing back up at the staff table. If he had _just_ been a week earlier, a month earlier, _years_ earlier in asking Tempest out, it could have been her laughing with _him_ right then.

"What do you mean?"

George turned to Angelina, almost surprised to see her still there. "What do you mean, what do I mean?"

"Well, about it not mattering anymore. I would have thought it would matter more now," Angelina shrugged.

"Hang on a sec- what do you mean by _that_?"

"You're still her friend right?" Angelina said, sighing and leaning in, much to Fred's annoyance, "So be a friend! Tempest won't appreciate you wrecking whatever the hell she has with Malfoy- and you are, first and foremost, her _friend_! It's not like she's dumped you and said that she will never be with you and she'll stay with Malfoy for the rest of eternity! You're the one who's thinking that!"

"But you don't know Tempest!" George exploded, "I don't know why she consented to go to the ball with Malfoy, but she doesn't just say yes to _anyone_, it's serious!"

"Hey, look, calm down!" Angelina said, waving her hand in front of George's face. "Snap out of it! I might not know Tempest that well, apart from the fact that she's a great Seeker- but I am a girl, and I know how we think."

George eyed her cautiously. "Go on."

"Okay, so it doesn't matter how serious it is- shut up and listen- _it doesn't matter_. Because if you actually care about her as much as your moronic twin says you do-"

"Hey!"

"-then all you need to do is hang around."

"So you're telling me to wait."

"No!" Angelina said exasperatedly. "Well yes, but no! This is when your so-called knowledge of Tempest comes in. Even I don't know her so well, and yet I know this about her."

"_What_ about her?"

"If you never take the first step, then you're never going to get anywhere… if you don't do things for yourself and expect everything to happen for you, then nothing ever will. What you need to do is stick around, and wait for the perfect moment. If it's meant to be, and you're actually the right person for her… Malfoy or no, it'll be you."

George shook his head slowly, staring at Angelina. "She's not some kind of damsel in distress waiting up in a tower for someone to go kill the dragon! In fact, _she's_ the dragon. You approach her, she'll tear out your eyes then leave you to burn… maybe even literally. She doesn't need a bloody knight in shining armour… she'd beat him up before he even gets anywhere near her."

"I don't mean you need to _rescue_ her ," Angelina sighed, "You boys are so short sighted… don't worry, you'll figure it out… I won't say a word to Tempest." Angelina smirked, "Now, c'mon Fred, let's dance."

George grunted as Fred was yanked off onto the dance floor by Angelina, then his eyes shifted back to Tempest, who was now being spun by Malfoy, smiling and laughing.

George still didn't understand what Angelina had been getting at, but it wasn't all that bad then. After all, as Angelina had said… he was still her friend, and as her friend, he was morally obliged to want her to be happy- and she did look happy.

Damn it to hell.

So all he had to do was wait.

Wait for the perfect moment- not to ruin her and Malfoy's relationship, or whatever they had, but to just see… to see whether Tempest felt anything other than friendship for him, George, not Malfoy.

But when was the perfect moment?

George had never been good at giving advice in his own opinion, much less giving advice to himself.

But he was never going to know if he never asked…

~Y._.Y~

_Present Day_

Why on earth was Sirius asking the damn question in any case? To prove to Tempest that guys found her attractive and therefore she needed to be more careful? Because that point didn't need to _be_ proved. Tempest was by far one of the most popular people amongst both the boys and the girls. She would never have said it herself, as she preferred the solitude of the Black Lake as opposed to being seated in the Great Hall surrounded by people.

But then again, Tempest never shied away from a bit of fun, and she never hesitated to do something completely stupid and reckless in front of scores of people. She was just a person who anything could happen around, and while that wasn't always a good thing, it meant that life was never boring around her.

The answer to Sirius's question was a YES, a huge YES that George wanted to yell, to grab Tempest's shoulders and tell her in no uncertain terms that he was so badly obsessed with her in ways that words couldn't describe.

Of course though, that wouldn't be very well received by either Tempest, or Sirius, so George decided to go in-between.

"I wouldn't object to dating her," George said finally.

"See!" Sirius said to Tempest, and George let out a breath of relief at being out of the spotlight. For a moment he had been genuinely frightened.

"I told you! Guys are starting to notice you, and you need to be more careful!"

"Sirius, I really don't think that that's any of your concern-"

"The hell it isn't!" Sirius exploded, "Even right now, you're underdressed! Why are you wearing those shorts? And that t-shirt? Muggle clothing is way too exposing! Go put on some jeans-"

"I'm _wearing_ jeans!"

"Long ones, or go put on some track pants! - and then a jumper, or go put on some robes!

"_Sirius! _ Are you insane?" Tempest yelled, and even though George agreed that Tempest had a _lot_ of skin showing at the moment… it didn't exactly mean he didn't like it.

"It's the middle of _summer_, there's a drought going on somewhere in the country, we're going to work on the bike tonight- **I will roast to death**, skin showing or not- in any case, you're one to speak- look at you!"

"Tempest, I'm holed up in this house, and the only time I go out is in disguise! The only women I meet are you, Minnie, and Tonks, and I'm sorry Tempest, but none of those are on my to-date list! Added to the fact that I'm much older than you, and I'm a guy!"

"Oh? And so now you're a feminist?" Tempest asked loudly, stepping closer to Sirius, glaring at him, "And if you're using that excuse, then the only guys I see on a regular basis dressed like this is you, Remus and the men in the Order of the Phoenix, all of which have twenty years and much more on me! Even George and the rest of the guys I only see rarely like this! When I go out, I'm in disguise too, and when I get back to Hogwarts, surrounded by _boys_, then I'll be wearing school robes!"

"Oh it's not about the clothes!" Sirius said, "The point is, is that you're growing up Tempest, and people are starting to notice that!"

"Well then, that's my problem, and I can handle it!" Tempest retorted, "as I have said countless times before- _it's none of your concern._"

"You're like my daughter!" Sirius roared, "If it isn't mine, then who the hell is it's!"

Tempest froze, George literally saw her muscles lock into place, and then she forced her mouth open just enough to grind out three words.

"George._ Out._"

George left wordlessly, sliding past a still Tempest and an equally motionless Sirius.

As soon as George had disappeared down the stairs, Tempest rounded on Sirius. "And what did you mean by that?"

"Alright," Sirius said slowly, as though forcing his voice to be calm, and yet it still sounded unnaturally loudly in the silence after all the yelling. "You know how I promised Prongs I'd look after you if anything ever happened to him or Lily? Well, it's like that."

Tempest tilted her head to the side, her expression still unforgiving, but it was clear she was listening.

"I spent twelve years in Azkaban not knowing what had happened to you, and when I got out and heard about you I promised myself I'd find you and look after you. Don't you get it? I love you, not just because you're Prongs' kid, I care about you because I genuinely do, regardless of your parents. Believe me, I would _never_ think of replacing Prongs, nor do I think I could, even if I tried… but the point is, I love you like a daughter, Tempest, and I care about you."

Tempest was rendered speechless, and that rarely happened, apart from when she was either winded, had a silencing charm cast on her, was tortured to the point where she couldn't speak, or was just too lazy to open her mouth.

Eventually though, after several long seconds of searching, Tempest found her voice.

"Well," Tempest croaked, then coughed and began again, "Well, with all those defensive spells and techniques you've been teaching me over the past few weeks… Sirius, I promise, that if any random guy gets to close for comfort, I'll kick them where it counts, just for you."

"You have no idea just how happy that makes me feel!" Sirius said, grabbing Tempest and pulling her roughly into a hug.

"Hey," Tempest said, her voice muffled by Sirius's shoulder, "Weren't you not meant to be talking to me because you were mad?"

"Yeah, well," Sirius looked awkward as he let Tempest go and took a step back. "I heard you two talking in the shower, and I freaked out a bit… besides, I thought it was about time to forgive you- it's your birthday after all."

"Thanks Sirius," Tempest grinned. "Apart from the awkward conversation before… best birthday ever, and we haven't even gotten to cake."

"No problem," Sirius replied, "Now, I'll just… I'll just get back to my shower."

"Oh, and Sirius?" Tempest called him back.

"Yeah?"

"Towel, Sirius, towel. If you're going to walk around with only a towel on, then you need to learn how to knot the thing. I'm being blinded here!"

~Y._.Y~

Tempest had sent letters to Hermione and the four youngest Weasleys, calling them over for her birthday.

It wasn't really a party, seeing as Tempest disliked those whenever they featured her, (Otherwise she loved a good party) but she knew Sirius had made a cake for her (even though that was when he still wasn't talking to her and even though he failed at baking) and Tempest knew that it was fruitless to ask her friends not to bring presents, so in the end, Tempest merely decided to call the gathering a mini reunion for the holidays.

"What's this?" Ginny asked, holding up a gold ring with the Black family crest on it, dangling it in Tempest's face.

"That?" Tempest said, glancing at the ring, "Oh, that's Sirius's dad's ring… or its actually Sirius's now, but he doesn't... he doesn't wear it. You can just… put it back in its case. Sirius and I are binning a lot of stuff, but Kreacher keeps saving the stuff… It pisses Sirius off, but as long as Kreacher doesn't start saving Sirius's mom's underwear, I just let him stash up on the jewels."

"How about this?" George broke in, dangling a shining silver locket in Tempest's face.

"Well we obviously haven't chucked it yet," Tempest laughed, swatting at it. "But it looks pretty- if not ostentatious- you've really got to hand it to Kreacher, he knows which pieces to save."

"So, is this place really the Order of the Phoenix's HQ?" Ron asked glancing around, "_Blimey_."

"Sort of," Tempest said, "They pop in every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday evening and discuss stuff in the dining room."

"Wicked!" Fred said, kicking his feet back on the coffee table, "What do they talk about? Are you allowed in the meetings?"

"Well I sort of have to be," Tempest smirked, "It is sort of Sirius and my house, and most of the stuff has to do with me-"

Tempest frowned slightly. She _was_ there at every meeting and she heard everything that they planned, all the diagrams of the Ministry of Magic, but she knew she was missing something. She knew it was about her, and she knew it had to do with whatever it was that was in the Ministry of Magic, but it seemed like Dumbledore was going to extra lengths just to keep her in the dark, and whenever Tempest tried to broach the topic with Dumbledore, the man vanished.

It was _so_ frustrating.

"So what _do_ they talk about?" Ron asked, drawing closer almost as if he couldn't control himself.

"She can't tell you, Ron!" Hermione cut in, her eyebrows drawing into a frown, "We're not in the order, and aren't you under some kind of oath that means you can't talk about this stuff, Tempest?"

Tempest shrugged. "Sorry Ron, but yeah, I can't tell you, and Hermione… you'd think that they would, but no… there's no magical contract or whatnot, Dumbledore just asks that you give your word that you do not betray the Order… and that's it."

"Wow…"

Tempest was amused to see that Fred actually looked _awed_.

"It's really not all that exciting," Tempest said, "Usually they just stand around and discuss political strategies to target the Ministry that I don't get most of the time… and safe houses they have to set up around the country 'in event of the worst' or something along those lines."

"What's 'in event of the worst'?" Ginny asked.

In event of the worst was something Tempest didn't want to discuss. It was if Riddle had taken over, the Ministry infiltrated and Hogwarts no longer safe. All members of the Order of the Phoenix would be incapacitated or unable to assist, and Tempest was dead.

Yeah. Dark.

"I can't talk about that," Tempest said, almost robotically.

"Can you give us a at least a _hint_ of what they're talking about? Has You-Know-Who… been seen? Do they know what he's doing?"

"Dunno, Ron… No one's seen Riddle, but Dumbledore speculates that he's lying low for a while and just recruiting… finding the people and creatures that supported him last time he was in power."

There was a long tense silence, which George then had to break.

"Okay! So is it weird then, that we've been in your house for two hours and none of us have said 'Happy Birthd-'"

"Uh, uh! No! No Happy Birthdays!" Tempest yelled, cutting him off, "It is only my birthday, and the fact that you all happen to be here, with presents, but when you say 'Happy Birthday' we start to stray into dangerous territory, making it _almost_ a party… which it is not."

"Alright, Tempest, whatever you say," Hermione grinned, "I suppose that means you won't be opening your presents now, but later when we've left?"

"Yes!" Tempest cheered, "Because if I open them now, then it'll create an atmosphere of _joy_ and _giving_, and that's not good."

"Whatever you say, Hedgy, whatever you say… Just send me a letter telling me how much you absolutely _loved_ my gift later." George threw a charming smile in Tempest's direction.

"And what if I don't like it?" Tempest teased, raising her eyebrows in George's direction.

Tempest saw something almost like fear flash across George's face, but then it was gone, Tempest mentally shook her head. She must have imagined it.

"Well then you're stupid," George retorted, "Because I am the best gift-giver that ever existed!"

"Oh _really_?" Fred broke in, "Well that's just your big head speaking, George, _nothing_, and I mean _nothing_ trumps my present that I gave you in fourth year-"

"-hippogriff shit on my head at three in the morning does _not_ count as a present, Fred!"

"It does if it has a nice card on top with your name in it-"

Tempest laughed as George launched himself at Fred, and then the two twins were rolling across the floor, doing a combination of wrestling and some other weird style of fighting that included yelling at the top of their voices and having limbs failing about every which way.

"Boys," Hermione sighed to Tempest and Ginny.

"Oi!" Ron complained, "I'm not rolling on the floor like them!"

"_Oh?_ " Ginny said dangerously, turning slowly to Ron, "What about when you were nine and you threw a fit because Aunt Muriel gave me a cookie and not you and you pulled on my hair and when I retaliated we both ended up scuffling on the floor, and I was kicking your ass while you were crying for mom?"

Ron glared at Ginny as Tempest and Hermione howled with laughter.

"I-can't-believe-you-did-that!" Hermione choked, tears of laughter streaming down her face.

"I-can't-believe-you-didn't-tell-us-about-it-sooner!" Tempest said thickly, her entire frame shaking from laughter.

"Hilarious," Ron said stiffly.

"Come on!" Tempest said, punching Ron's shoulder, "You've got to admit that's funny! Ginny beating you up…"

"You didn't know that Ginny could defeat Ron any day of the week already?" Hermione scoffed.

"Well of course I knew that already!" Tempest sniggered. "It's obvious, just funnier hearing it directly…"

"Hey!" Ron complained, "If it was one of you, I don't think you'd be laughing that hard!"

"Oh we would," Tempest chuckled, "We can actually take a joke you see, Ron."

"I _can_ take a joke!" Ron protested. "I can take a joke very well! Like when Tempest burned my Divination homework I didn't complain at all-"

"Mate," Tempest snorted, "_Everyone_ is fine with burning divination-" Tempest ignored Hermione's reproving look, "-and besides, I didn't do that, you did it yourself, and then when Hermione yelled at you and threatened to write your mom, you blamed it on me."

"So you see, Ron, you got it handed to you, _once again_ by a girl." Ginny laughed, making Ron's scowl deepen.

"Oi!" Tempest yelled, leaping to her feet as George made a wild grab for his wand that was lying on the coffee table just as Fred grabbed him around the calves, and the two of them fell across the coffee table, making it snap clean in two with the sound of splintering wood. "That's my favourite table! It's the perfect height for swinging on the chandelier!"

Tempest launched herself at the two struggling boys, pummelling the both of them over the head with a cushion, rolling across the floor.

"Pillow fight!" Ginny yelled, then she was hit by all three on the floor.

"What do you say?" Ron asked Hermione, yelling over the noise of the four scuffling on the floor and stuffing that floated down from the ceiling. "Want to join them?"

He was hit in the face with a sofa cushion.

Ron took that as a yes.

Four hours later, Mr and Mrs Weasley arrived to take the Weasleys back home (Mr Weasley would side-along apparate Hermione back to her house) but Tempest pulled the twins aside just before they were about to leave.

"I've been meaning to ask you, by the way," Tempest began, "Did Bagman ever pay you two back?"

Fred and George exchanged glances like they thought it was the last thing she would bring up.

"If we tell you, will you promise to not flip out and start declaring your vengeance on him, alright?" Fred said.

Tempest cocked an eyebrow. "That really reassures me, you know Fred?"

"No," George sighed for his brother. "The day after the Third Task, he packed up and scarpered. He's on the run now, I wouldn't be surprised if and when they catch him he's somewhere in China…"

"But I won," Tempest frowned, "Doesn't that mean that the goblins let him off?"

"Nah," Fred scoffed, "the goblins are almost as untrustworthy as Bagman- don't tell Bill I said that by the way, he'd kill me- they said seeing as both you and Diggory took the cup at the same time it was a tie and nobody won..."

"It's fine, Hedgy," George said, "We'll just save up again and start from scratch… we can make more money by selling the joke items we still have, and go on from there- what's that?"

Tempest thrust the bag into George's hands, ignoring his stunned expression as it fell open.

"Take it." she said. "I've been thinking about it for a while and I got the other five hundred from my vault so you've got a thousand there."

"Tempest, we can't take this," Fred said, his eyes fixed on the money, expression stoic.

George tried to wordlessly shove the money back to Tempest, but she backed away, glad that they were in the soundproof room that used to be Sirius's father's study so the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione could not hear.

"I'm not taking it back," Tempest said, letting the bag of galleons fall to the floor straight through her arms. It burst open so the gold coins hit the rug and rolled away, scattering across the floor. "I don't want it, I don't need it, and I don't have any right to it."

"Hedgy, it's your money!" George said, seeming to break out of whatever state of shock he had been in. "And even if it wasn't and you'd stolen it from Gringotts we couldn't take it from you!"

Tempest looked at George, and then Fred, and it was pride. They were both too proud to ever accept money from her, because every time they looked at her it would be all they would ever be able to think about, and because in their eyes, they would owe her.

And pride, Tempest realized, was one of the Weasley family's defining traits.

"We can't take it, Tempest," George said seriously, the first time, Tempest realized, that she had ever seen George that serious when Tempest wasn't lying on a hospital bed. "You got that money by being… by being tortured by You-Know-Who!"

"And you think I want to be reminded of that?" Tempest asked, making both twins flinch slightly. "You think I want money I got by going through that?"

"Well no," Fred stuttered, glancing down at the gold covered floor. "But… but putting that aside, the other half _is_ your own money, and we won't accept charity-"

"It's not charity," Tempest said flatly. "My parents left me that money, they left me thousands and thousands of galleons, more money than I know what to do with, and they wanted me to do something useful with it, something worthwhile…" Tempest took out her wand, summoning all the gold coins back into the bag, picking it up. "Take the money, go start your joke shop, and don't _ever_, for one _second_ think you owe me anything."

Fred's mouth was open, and he seemed to be struggling to close it, staring at Tempest like he had never seen her before. "Tempest-"

"An investment," George said.

"What?"

"An investment," George repeated, a strange look in his eyes as he looked steadily at Tempest. "If we take it money, it's under the understanding that you are giving us this money for our business and that in the future we will be paying you back out of our profits."

"George-"

George didn't say anything, merely stuck out his right hand to Tempest in a gesture that seemed almost laughable, but at the same time deadly serious.

It was odd, like it wasn't about Tempest giving them money for the joke shop, but almost as if it was personal. Personal to George.

Tempest stepped forwards, and grabbed George's hand, giving it a firm shake. "Deal."

She tossed the sack of coins to Fred, who caught it, still staring at Tempest, shell shocked, and them Tempest swept out of the room, yelling a goodbye to Hermione and the Weasleys, and headed upstairs.

~Y._.Y~

Sirius had decided to make Tempest's birthday cake himself.

Falling under Tempest's rule that it was _not_ a birthday party, he clearly wasn't able to make it for when Hermione and the Weasley's were there, but seeing as it was now just her, Remus and Sirius left, she had relented.

Kreacher had assembled all the ingredients needed for a chocolate cake, but Sirius had been firm on the idea that Tempest's first birthday cake at Grimmauld place would be made by _him_ and no-one but him.

Tempest had laughed along with Remus. It would be funny to see Sirius in a kitchen, actually attempting to _cook_ something.

"Sugar!" Remus moaned, his head in his hands, "Sirius, that's _salt_."

"And your butter in the pan is burning," Tempest pointed out, hiding her sniggers, "you might want to check on that."

"I'm on it, I'm on it!" Sirius said impatiently, looking decidedly flustered as he yanked the pan off the stove and shook a whole cup more sugar than needed into the mixing bowl. His hair was covered in flour, making him almost look like a more handsome version of Nearly Headless Nick.

"So, how's life Moony?" Sirius asked, very obviously trying to turn the conversation away from him. "Anything new?"

"Well, Dumbledore's sent me underground with the other werewolves," Remus began, "Trying to sway them over to our side and not listen to Voldemort-"

"How's that going?" Tempest asked, curious. She never really saw nor heard much about other werewolves, but didn't like the fact that Remus was around them on a constant basis. From what little she did know about the other werewolves from Remus… they weren't very good company.

"Not well," Remus sighed. "The werewolves are firmly convinced that Voldemort is the liberator they've been waiting for. With that Umbridge woman in the ministry setting all those new job restrictions up, more and more are being convinced it's the way to go."

"Bloody hell," Sirius said, mixing the ingredients together with such enthusiasm most of the mix escaped out of the bowl onto the surrounding walls and Tempest and Remus. "And Dumbledore keeps sending you there?"

"Hang on," Tempest interrupted, licking chocolate off her fingers, "Moony, did you say some person in the Ministry is setting up job restrictions for werewolves?"

"Dolores Jane Umbridge," Remus sighed, running a tired hand across his forehead, "Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. Hates half-breeds and all other manner of magical creatures… when you're faced with a real monster like her, it isn't hard to see where all the other werewolves are coming from."

Tempest couldn't form an answer, but Sirius stepped in for her.

"Umbridge is an idiot," Sirius said, rubbing his nose with the heel of his hand leaving floury streaks down his face, "I won't call her a bitch because that's just an insult to me, you and you-" Sirius nodded in both Tempest and Remus's direction. The two wolves and all three dogs in their own rights. "But she's a prejudiced moron who's just making enemies of the things she should fear most… lure her into a dark alleyway, and then I'd probably maul her to death as Padfoot… ah tempting…"

"I'd be right there beside you," Tempest said, clapping both Sirius and Remus on the back. "And I've learnt some nice hexes that might go well…"

"We Marauder's stick together," Sirius said, leaning over and ruffling Remus's hair like he was three years old. "And if you ever need a place to crash, or just lie low, we'd blast the door off this place for you."

Tempest nodded. "In fact, I'd go blast it off right now, if you want, and you can stay until Padfoot and I plot revenge…"

Remus laughed, and the atmosphere relaxed instantly.

"You two are insane, you know that?"

Tempest high-fived Sirius, grinning at the two of them.

"So we've been told."

Tempest went upstairs later that night after saying a last goodbye to Remus and a goodnight to Sirius.

Tempest grinned rather wolfishly as she remembered the beautiful mess of cake they had taken out of the oven, and the great fun they had had shoving cake in each other's faces. The two thirty-six year olds had had the greatest time acting just like they were Tempest's age… minus ten years.

Seeing as it was only Remus and Sirius there, Tempest had consented to opening Remus's present, which was a huge volume of _Everything You Need to Know About OWLS for Dummies!_. Sirius had laughed himself silly at the idea of Tempest, the hyperactive crazy Marauder in OWL year.

The rest of her presents were upstairs in her room, and after a nice long shower, Tempest decided to open them.

Ron had gotten her two huge boxes of Honeydukes chocolate, which Tempest knew would be gone by the end of the week (one word: Sirius) while Hermione had decided to go for _range_ and bought Tempest what seemed like a little bit of every single kind of sweet that Tempest knew and didn't know existed.

Ginny had given Tempest a new wand holster, so that when Tempest shoved her wand up her sleeve, it was much easier to take out without ripping her sleeve in the process.

Sirius had given Tempest two presents. The first was one that Tempest couldn't wait to use when she got to Hogwarts. It was a small hand held mirror, that was a two-way mirror and when Tempest said Sirius's name to it, his face would appear in the glass, as it would in reverse when Sirius said Tempest's name to the other mirror which he carried.

Apparently he and her father used to use them when they were in separate detentions back in the Marauder years.

The second one Tempest had _not _been prepared for.

She had gone down to the basement later on that night to put the finishing touches on the paintwork for the bike and all the spells to make sure that if it crashed into… say, a car, the bike would come out looking better for it.

Instead, what she had found, was Sirius sitting on their work bench, grinning like a child, and holding out a miniature sleek black motorbike about exactly two inches across on a key ring.

"Flying, dragon fire-breathing, invisible, custom made with all other kinds of weird attachments, key ring motorbike!" Sirius had exclaimed, bouncing the bike up and down in his palm like a five year old. "You tap it with your wand- like so- and you say 'Sirius is the absolute best looking and handsome person I have ever met'! And then-"

And then the bike had seemed to explode, and then, standing in front of the pair of them was an absolutely _beautiful_ motorbike with a silver black and gold scheme looking _fast_ even motionless.

"Sirius," Tempest had breathed, staring at the bike, "You're not honestly giving me your bike?"

"Why not?" Sirius had grinned, "I got given this bike myself when I was fifteen, all the other Marauder's pitched in for it… so now _you're_ fifteen, and you'll probably use that bike more than me now… I'd be nice to see her being used properly again."

Tempest glanced at the mirror and the bike sitting on top of it and let a smile slide across her face as she turned to her next present.

It was odd, Fred and George usually got her a present together, but this time they had gotten separate presents.

Fred had gotten her the usual set of Zonko products while George… Tempest ripped back the wrapping paper and saw…

A toilet seat.

Tempest laughed out loud as she stared at the innocent toilet seat sitting in front of her from First year.

_"Tokens from your admirers… I do believe that your friends Fred and George are responsible for sending you a toilet seat… they promised Poppy they had cleaned it first, but sadly she still forbid it…"_

Tempest picked up the porcelain seat and prayed that George really had washed it. Now the problem was… where to put it…

Tempest gasped as soon as she touched the seat the surface seemed to ripple… and then colours started to spread across the blank white until Tempest was holding a moving image of her very first Quidditch game.

It was like the spell Tempest had used for Ron and Hermione's Christmas present last year, to take a specific memory and tie it to something inanimate… not quite like a photo, because it wasn't, but close.

Tempest smiled at the sight of a tiny her jumping off her broom and slamming into George's, whose face was a mask of terror… then it cut to her clapping George on the shoulder and disappearing into the crowd, leaving George looking dumbstruck.

Tempest put the toilet seat to the side, an odd emotion clogged up in her throat that she couldn't identify. For some reason the present didn't seem like a present, and more like a message. A message conveying what she didn't know… but it was different, and not at all familiar.


	17. Chapter 17

**It's Your Life. Live it.**

C3: St Mungo's.

_"If you're waiting for a bus you know will never arrive… what would you do?"_

_"I would walk."_

Tempest sighed and dug her spoon into the tub of ice cream in front of her.

No, she hadn't been talking about buses, she admitted that now, but she couldn't brush away the feeling that George hadn't been either.

A lot of things felt two-sided now, the deal when George wouldn't accept the money, her birthday present…

Tempest ate another spoonful of ice cream.

She was exhausted and rather irritable at the moment, her research for her project regarding the Longbottoms was going nowhere. Tempest had even hazarded a visit to the Black Library which contained thousands upon thousands of dark texts and recipes for potions to shrivel up a living being's organs or spells to disembowel people without any way of tracing it back to the caster… it was a horrible place, but even there, Tempest couldn't find anything that would help her. So far she had managed to combine Monkshood with snake venom and unicorn tears, but that was it.

Tempest had begun randomly combining ingredients hoping to achieve the desired effect, and had to keep a journal of which ingredients she had already used, and the way they had reacted to each other- just so she would remember not to make the same mistake again.

She had filled stacks and stacks of parchment with her scrawly writing and had still achieved nothing.

Sirius didn't know exactly what Tempest was experimenting with, but he left her to her own devices, something that Tempest was insanely grateful for. She didn't have the patience at the moment to explain slowly what she was doing, and why she was doing it.

_It's to save two people's minds, and make Neville's life so much better. It's worth it. So stop complaining, shut up, and keep working._

Tempest had taken to repeating that in her mind as she worked, and it helped, a bit.

Tempest and Neville weren't close. They talked, sure, but their conversations were only ever polite and for the sake of not having an awkward silence hanging in the air. Tempest had always had the feeling that Neville never really liked her much. Not so far as to say that he _disliked_ her, but he wasn't overly fond of her.

Tempest had never really known why, and never really cared enough to wonder why, but ever since she had discovered the truth about Neville's parents, the answer hit her like a punch in the face. (and living with Sirius meant that Tempest was very accustomed to things slamming into her face)

It was, in retrospect, the reason why Tempest wouldn't like herself if their positions were reversed. In Neville's mind, Tempest was everything she shouldn't be.

Whenever Tempest was faced with a difficult situation, or put on the spot, she would either make some sort of sarcastic comment, or laugh.

Tempest laughed a lot of things off. She laughed off insults, she laughed off pranks that were played on herself, she laughed off concerned comments from her friends when she was hurt… she laughed off what others thought of her… it was like her failsafe, to show the world she didn't give a damn… and she didn't. Most of the time.

And Neville didn't do that.

Neville was quiet, Neville was shy, and to be honest, he wasn't very popular. He wasn't the type to just brush off everything that happened to him. From Neville's point of view, to him it was like Tempest didn't really care that her parents had sacrificed themselves for her and didn't respect them at all.

As soon as that epiphany had occurred, Tempest knew she should have been furious, she knew she should have been indignant that Neville thought so little of her, and just confronted him about it… it was what Tempest would have done for anyone else.

But this was Neville, and he probably had more right to judge Tempest than any other person on earth.

It then occurred to Tempest why exactly she was working so hard to try to fix someone else's life. It had nothing to do with her playing the 'good, self-sacrificing' person, it was just what Tempest would have wanted done for herself if she had the chance.

Tempest sighed and shoved a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth, swallowing almost immediately and then gritting her teeth as icy cold radiated through her body, and it felt like spikes of ice were being driven through her skull.

"Damnit," Tempest swore, glaring at the ice cream as though it was its fault.

Sirius was upstairs with Buckbeak, the hippogriff didn't like being indoors much, so Sirius had to transfigure the interior of one of the guest bedrooms to look like a grassy landscape with a few trees dotted here and there.

Tempest flicked her wand at her slowly melting tub of ice cream, and it immediately re-solidified. She loved being able to use magic in Grimmauld place. Most of the time just because it was fun, but the other half of the time, Tempest _had_ to carry her wand around with her throughout the house. There were still some dangerous dark artefacts lying about, and if Tempest didn't have her wand on her at all times…

Grimmauld Place was a huge house, that Tempest actually thought to be more of a mansion that merely a house. The staircases were wide and sweeping and the rooms were huge and grand… Tempest was certain there were various undetectable expansion charms on the place, because there was absolutely no way that 12 Grimmauld place as seen from the inside could fit into 12 Grimmauld place as seen from the outside.

The place was Sirius's parents' house, and the first time the two of them had set foot into the house, Tempest knew exactly what kind of people used to live there.

It was like the air itself seemed to breathe danger, magic and malice. There were so many dark items that they had to dispose of, objects that were cursed and rooms that were enchanted for sick and disgusting purposes.

Sirius had said that before he had run away in his sixth year, Riddle himself had been using Grimmauld place to keep prisoners to torture.

Tempest hadn't needed to know more than that, images of screaming people under the Cruciatus curse floating in front of her eyes.

She and Sirius had spent weeks moving through the house, removing spells and enchantments, ridding the place of years of dust and cobwebs… and then they had redecorated. Sirius had spent hours trying to remove the pictures of his ancestors on the walls, and when he failed, Tempest had helped him cast various silencing charms on all of them, and then paint Gryffindor red and gold all over their frames. (Kreacher had thrown a fit, sobbing and wailing for hours)

Sirius and Tempest had decided together that if they were going to live in Grimmauld place, neither of them wanted to be reminded of it's horrible past. If they were going to call it home, then they wanted to fill it with memories that were just simply happy and filled with everything that neither of their childhoods had given them.

From there on, Sirius had begun work, making every single waking moment at Grimmauld place unforgettable.

The pair of them flew brooms inside, playing a game of one-on-one Quiddtich, they slid down the banisters as Padfoot and Temper, spray painted the inside of rooms, set off fireworks in the hallways, dangled each other upside down from chandeliers, and danced on table tops, singing their hearts out to music that pounded so loud Tempest wondered how any amount of silencing spells could prevent the muggles next door from hearing…

Tempest's eyes flashed open and she jerked upright, almost falling off the chair by the kitchen counter. Her ice cream had all melted, and Tempest wearily sent another freezing charm at it, picking up her spoon again. This summer had to be the hottest that she had ever had. She glanced around for what had woken her up, and almost instantly her eyes fell on Kreacher.

"Hey Kreacher," Tempest said cordially. She didn't actually like Kreacher much, but Tempest liked Heidy, and she liked Dobby too, plus she was best friends with Hermione, and all of that combined was enough reason for Tempest to give Kreacher a chance… although by now, Kreacher was on his hundredth or so chance…

"Look at the filthy half-blood, sitting there bold as brass, eating food from my Mistresses fridge, spreading the stain of disgrace and dishonour upon the Noble house of Black…"

"Kreacher, first of all, I'm not technically a half-blood anymore, so that point's invalid, second of all I'm sorry, but your Mistress died ten years ago and I bought this ice cream myself just three days ago, and third of all, you can't really spread disgrace and dishonour to a house that we've coated half of in permanent muggle spray paint… and it's not really the Noble house of _Black_ anymore… more like the Noble house of bright yellow, neon blue, blood red and gold…"

"Oh, very funny, very funny indeed," Kreacher mumbled to himself, "the Potter girl likes her jokes… just as shameful as Master is, my poor Mistress, if she could see her house now.."

"Yes, but she's dead, so she can't." A voice said from the kitchen door, and Tempest turned to see Sirius.

"And that horrible picture of hers in the hallway is merely proof of how deranged that woman is…"

"…seeing her poor Kreacher stuck here serving the ungrateful brat when he could be instead serving Mistress's nieces… ah, the pride of the Black family…"

"If you're talking about Andromeda, then go ahead, but if you're talking about Narcissa and Bellatrix…" Sirius snorted. "Well dear Cissy is a married snobbish stuck up prat, and Trixie is locked up in Azkaban… so sorry Kreacher, but you're stuck with us."

"…there he stands, the blood traitor, sullying the good name of his un-deserved relatives…"

"Oh go snog a picture of my mother and leave us in peace!" Sirius said, interrupting Kreacher's mutterings.

Still muttering, Kreacher backed out of the room, and Tempest could hear him continuing to swear under his breath as he mounted the stairs and disappeared somewhere on the second floor.

"Who's Andromeda?" Tempest asked as Sirius crossed over to the freezer to extract his own tub of ice cream.

"My cousin," Sirius replied, holding his spoon in his teeth as he opened his tub of ice cream. "Seeing as you're my niece now, she'd be your first cousin once removed I think... She was in fifth year when I started Hogwarts, my favourite cousin too… she was in Slytherin, but one of those who actually turned out decent."

"I didn't see her on the family tree before we ruined that room," Tempest mused.

"Yeah, my dear old mum blasted her off a year before she blasted me… she ran off with some muggle-born, Ted Tonks I think. Was the scandal of a century- well until I ran away and was disowned that is."

"Tonks… so that makes Tonks-"

"Her daughter."

"And Narcissa-"

"'Dromeda's sister younger sister. Bellatrix was the eldest. She was already dating Lestrange and in her seventh year when I started Hogwarts."

_Bellatrix Lestrange…_ Tempest could still remember the name. Her and her husband had been set to Azkaban along with Crouch Jr for the torture of Neville's parents… and that would make her Tempest's cousin too.

"Isn't that-"

"Don't." Sirius's voice was suddenly flat and remote. "Call them my family. I might be related to them by blood, but it stops there. My parents made that perfectly clear years ago."

"Well," Tempest said, trying to diffuse the tension, "If it makes you feel any better, I'm related to all of them too. First through my dad, and now you… we're messed up, aren't we?"

The atmosphere relaxed, and Sirius grinned.

"You're only just realizing that _now_?"

"Well," Tempest mused, "I did have hopes for you before… but Sirius," Tempest paused and placed a hand on Sirius's shoulder, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said seriously, "But Sirius, you are doomed."

"Noooooooooooooo!" Sirius howled, burying his head in his arms, his spoon skidding across the counter.

Tempest summoned the spoon back then cuffed Sirius around the head. "Eat your ice cream, Sirius."

"Yes mom," Sirius choked, "I suppose you'd tell me to keep my elbows off the table next?"

Tempest still had her mouth full of ice cream as she replied, "What would do if I told you to?"

"This."

Tempest yelped as suddenly Padfoot replaced Sirius and jaws slavering saliva he sprung at Tempest, knocking her off her chair and slobbering all over her clothes. Tempest shifted into Temper almost automatically, kicking Padfoot off her.

Padfoot reared up on his hind legs and swatted at his tub of ice cream sitting on the counter sending it skidding off the table and falling through the air… until it landed with a splat on Temper's head.

Padfoot heard the growls even before the tub slid off her head, revealing a very pissed off and ice cream covered wolf snarling at him.

If there was anything different between a huge bear sized dog and a smaller, but still considerably large timber wolf, it was that the wolf looked _much_ scarier.

Padfoot caught the glint in Temper's eyes, but couldn't duck fast enough as her own tub of ice cream sailed his way and coated his glossy black fur with pink goo.

Temper launched herself at Padfoot, the two canines rolling across the kitchen floor, each trying to get their teeth around the other's neck in a game that the two of them had been playing ever since Tempest had become Temper.

It was a playful scuffle, with no _real_ intent to harm, but so far Padfoot had always won their fights, pinning Temper down until she admitted defeat, but Tempest never gave up, and that also meant that Temper would never stop until she beat Padfoot at least once.

Both dog and wolf were coated in melting ice cream now and the entire kitchen was a mess, Sirius's point proven, but both were having too much fun to stop.

~Y._.Y~

"You know what I want?" Sirius asked no-one in particular, "I want to get one of those… what do muggles call it… a televan? A teleship?"

Tempest looked up from her book, eyebrows arched. "It's _television_, Sirius, and _why_?"

"Well," Sirius said, shifting on the couch and straightening slightly, "First of all, it would kill my mother again to know that I was lugging muggle technology into her ancestral home… and second of all, it'd just be _fun_."

Tempest pursed her lips, then returned her gaze back to her book. "Alright then," she said, "Whatever floats your boat… will you be buying as Snuffles or Padfoot?"

"Snuffles of course," Sirius sniffed, "Don't mock me, Temper."

"Sorry Padfoot," Tempest drawled, "Please do tell me though, how will you lug a huge heavy object like that all the way from town to here? Can't apparate in front of muggles remember? And no, I won't be acting as your pack mule and carrying it for you."

"Lightening and shrinking charms," Sirius scoffed, "Child's play. Besides, I like long walks, they help me think."

"That's the dog in you speaking," Tempest laughed, "-and since when did you ever _think_?"

"You should respect your elders Tempest," Sirius said with mock seriousness. "Or said elder might pin you to the ground with your head inside the freezer again."

Tempest scowled. "I _almost_ had you beaten until you cheated!"

"I didn't cheat, I just used my surroundings to help me."

"Ah! So you admit that you needed help!"

"You said that, not me." Sirius smirked. "In any case, the means I used to achieve the end result are void. The point is- I won, you lost… again."

Tempest glared at him. "If it wasn't for the fact that I just had a nice long shower and feel clean again, Temper would be at your throat right now."

"Sure, sure," Sirius said, throwing a final sardonic glance behind him as he swept out of the room. "In any case, if you're going to stay behind, I'll be going now! Be back in a few hours!"

Sirius smiled to himself as he grabbed his coat and edged past the portrait of his mother and out through the front door with Tempest's parting words floating behind him.

"-and I do _not_ call ramming someone's head into the freezer and pouring maple syrup all over their fur as _help_!"

Tempest slumped back into her seat with a sigh, picking up her book yet again.

So she'd have a couple of hours at the most until Sirius got back.

Tempest gritted her teeth, slammed her book shut and put it to the side. She would have two or three hours to do something that she had been planning for a few days.

Visit Frank and Alice Longbottom.

Tempest had never _been_ to the Wizarding hospital, and she didn't know where exactly the hospital was, so she couldn't apparate directly there. What little she had heard of the hospital was that it was in the heart of the city, and in the disguise of an abandoned building. Tempest couldn't floo to the hospital either, seeing as Sirius and her had disabled the network and set up an array of defensive and offensive spells around each fireplace in the house that would render anyone foolish enough to try and floo to Grimmauld place… to put it lightly- incapacitated.

The name of the abandoned building was Purge & Dowse Ltd but Tempest could find no records of it anywhere. That meant the only thing Tempest could do was to apparate to around as close to where she estimated St Mungo's to be and then search manually.

Tempest stood, straightening out her blouse and grabbing her jacket, taking out her wand and casting a spell on herself to change her hair colour to a horrible bleached blonde, rendering her unrecognizable.

Tempest only paused long enough to grab a bag to stuff her invisibility cloak into, then shoved her two-way mirror and motorcycle into her pocket, and left the house, after yelling to Kreacher to tell Sirius that she'd gone for a walk if he came home early.

Tempest stepped out onto 12 Grimmauld Place's front steps, exactly nine leading down to the pavement with a wrought iron railing running along beside it. There was a park around the corner too that Tempest usually went to… she liked sitting on the swings and just swinging two and fro gently and just watching the clouds float by…

The Fidelus charm ended two steps down from where Tempest was standing, but Tempest didn't need to go any further. She twisted on the spot and Dissaparated.

Tempest staggered sideways out of the way of a passing car, glancing around to make sure no muggles saw her impromptu appearance.

None had, amazingly enough, and Tempest quickly ducked into the crowd of people on the sidewalk, quickly blending in with the countless others going about their lives.

Tempest scanned every building she walked past, but none looked abandoned, and none were called 'Purge & Dowse Ltd'.

After what seemed like twenty minutes, Tempest caved and decided to ask a woman who was passing by, holding a little girl's hand.

"Um, excuse me," Tempest began, making the woman stop and turn with a surprised expression on her face.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Uh, yes, please, would you happen to know where a building called Purge & Dowse Ltd is located?"

"Oh of course!" The woman said, her face clearing, "It's three streets away, you cross at the next intersection, turn left and then left again when you reach the ice cream shop. You'll see it right at the end of the road- a big red brick building."

"Thank you," Tempest said, relieved and wondering why she hadn't asked anyone sooner.

"Wait!" the woman called, making Tempest look back in surprise.

"You do know it's closed for refurbishment?" she asked.

_Abandoned indeed._

"Um, yes, I'm meeting someone there," Tempest said awkwardly.

The woman didn't really look like she believed Tempest (damn her inability to lie) but she seemed to let it slide. "An odd place that," she said, "It's been closed for years and no-one around has ever seen it actually open… take care will you?"

"Of course," Tempest said, "And thank you again."

Tempest waved goodbye to the little girl and then set off down the street.

Tempest reached the cover for St Mungo's relatively quickly with the woman's instructions and then met her next obstacle. She was standing outside a large old-fashioned building with rows of old battered looking dummies dressed in clothes that Lavender would faint at the sight of. There was no visible way in, and the rotting doors that were boarded up had obviously not been touched in decades.

Tempest was attracting a few odd stares, standing outside a clearly deserted building, but she ignored them all. It _was_ meant to be a magical place, so obviously she couldn't just stand there and expect something to happen… Tempest glanced around for muggles, then slid her wand out of her sleeve cautiously and then hesitated.

She didn't know what spell to cast, or what to say… Tempest settled for in-between and tapped on the glass with her wand. "Hello?"

The glass rippled like water from where Tempest's wand came in contact with the window, and then Tempest thought her heart stopped when one of the dummies in the window _moved_.

"_State your purpose_," a robotic sounding voice spoke, emitting from the dummy.

"I uh," Tempest fumbled for a moment, trying to remember her reason. "Visit to the Longbottoms."

"_Step forwards_."

Tempest glanced sideways again making sure no-one could see her, and then back again to the very solid pane of glass fixed to a very solid looking brick wall. Then she jammed her eyes shut and stepped forwards.

There was an odd sensation, like walking through a sheet of cool water, and then Tempest opened her eyes and she was perfectly dry, standing in what looked like a crowded reception room filled with people, and others who didn't really look… like people.

There was one who looked like they had spouted spines all over their skin (George would have gotten a kick out of that if it ever happened to Tempest), another with an elephant's trunk for a nose, yet another with a head swollen to three times its normal size, and a man with no hands or feet but instead a what looked like tree stumps attached to his limbs.

Tempest glanced around for a reception desk, or anybody who wasn't spouting a constant stream of bubbles from their mouth and nose who could tell her where to go to find Mr and Mrs Longbottom, and a long queue leading to a plump blond witch seated at a desk marked 'Enquiries' caught her eye.

Tempest quickly slid in behind the man with spines and stared around her. A portrait of a witch with long silver ringlets waved at her from the wall behind the blonde witch, and Tempest read the label as she gave a small wave back.

_Dilys Derwent_

_St Mungo's Healer: 1722-1741_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Meanwhile, the blonde witch didn't seem to be enjoying her shift at the desk much at all, as she was snapping irritably at the wizard standing before her.

"You-don't-understand!" The man said, pushing a young girl in front of him, a cat seemingly glued to her head. "My cat! It's stuck to her head! My poor Mitzy, she's been glued to this girl's head for days now! She hasn't eaten a thing! My poor cat! You have to do something, please!"

"So you've said," the blonde witch said, rolling her eyes and seeming completely unconcerned. "You'll be wanting Spell Damage, it's clearly a gluing charm gone wrong… for the girl that is. I have no idea for what to do for your _cat_, but I suggest you get the girl seen to at once. Read the floor guide! Fourth floor. Move along now! Next!"

As the line moved forwards, Tempest realized she was standing on letters, or more to the point she was standing on the floor guide, which was printed on the floor (duh) in block solid black letters.

**_Welcome to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries_**

**_ARTEFACT ACCIDENTS... Ground floor_**

_Cauldron explosion, wand backfiring, broom crashes, etc._

**_CREATURE-INDUCED INJURIES... First floor_**

_Bites, stings, burns, embedded spines, etc._

**_MAGICAL BUGS... Second floor_**

_Contagious maladies, e.g. dragon pox, vanishing sickness, scrojungulus, etc._

**_POTION AND PLANT POISONING... Third floor_**

_Rashes, regurgitation, uncontrollable 2, etc._

**_SPELL DAMAGE... Fourth floor_**

_Unliftable jinxes, hexes, incorrectly applied charms, etc._

_VISITORS' TEAROOM / HOSPITAL SHOP... Fifth floor_

_IF YOU ARE UNSURE WHERE TO GO, INCAPABLE OF NORMAL SPEECH OR UNABLE TO REMEMBER WHY YOU ARE HERE, OUR WELCOMEWITCH WILL BE PLEASED TO HELP._

Tempest didn't think the Welcome Witch looked very pleased to help as Tempest saw her hex a woman (who looked a lot like a man, or was it a man who looked a lot like a woman? Tempest wasn't sure) out of the line.

_Fourth floor._ Tempest told herself, and looked around for elevators or stairs. There were elevators, but they were on the other side of the crowded room, so Tempest decided to take the stairs, running up them two at a time. Tempest estimated she had been out an hour, and if Sirius walked to town, it would take him roughly twenty-thirty minutes to get there, and then probably the same to walk back. That was an hour in itself, but Tempest had seen Sirius shop, and it took him _hours_ to make a single purchase. For something like a television… Tempest estimated she had an hour and a half left.

She wouldn't exactly get in trouble if Sirius found her missing, or if he found out where she'd gone, but he might ask questions, and Tempest didn't really want to tell anyone about her project. Not even Neville, in case it was a false hope.

Tempest _knew_ that it may as well have been impossible to cure the Longbottoms, but it wouldn't stop her from trying. And she wouldn't stop. Not until she'd exhausted every possibility and tried _everything._

Tempest reached the fourth floor, and glanced down the hallway at the long row of doors leading into separate wards. There was a list of names on a piece of paper by each door with the patients names written on it.

Tempest sighed inwardly and walked over to the nearest list and began to scan down the list of names. There were four to ten people in each ward depending on the seriousness and harmfulness of the damage done by the spell and the long term residents who lived at St Mungo's were at the far end of the hallway…

Tempest walked down past several open doors until she reached the door at the end of the hallway, then scanned the list.

**JANUS THICKEY WARD**

_B1: GILDEROY LOCKHART_

_B2: BRODERICK BODE_

_B3: ANGES LETTERMAN_

_B4: QUEENIE YATES_

_B5: FRANK LONGBOTTOM_

_B6: ALICE LONGBOTTOM_

Tempest swallowed, then walked through the double doors. A woman dressed in a healer's outfit bustled up to her immediately.

"How may I help you?" she asked.

"Uh," Tempest glanced around. Now that she was there, she wasn't really sure _why_ exactly she had decided to see Neville's parents… but she wasn't going to back out yet. "I'm here to see the Longbottoms."

"Oh you are?" the woman said, a smile spreading across her face. "That's great! The poor dears… they've been in here for fourteen years did you know? Their son comes and visits them every day in the holidays- apart from when he's off at Hogwarts that is... he lives with his grandmother. Poor boy… come along, it'll be nice for Frank and Alice to have a change in visitors- they're right here, at the end of the ward-"

The healer liked to talk a lot, that much was obvious, and Tempest merely nodded along, feeling worse and worse as the healer continued.

"We kept them under monitoring for the first few years, hoping they'd improve in time, but they never did- Augusta, that's the grandmother, the mother of Frank, she would bring the little boy along and just sit by their side for hours waiting for Frank or Alice to recognize one of them… never did though."

"So uh, when you say that they don't recognize their family- do you mean they can't recognize specific people, or they just don't recognize people in general?" Tempest said, deciding to collect as much information as she could about the Longbottom's case. It might help with narrowing down the potential list of properties the potion she wanted to make would have to have.

"They aren't aware of their surroundings at all," the healer said, her smile fading, "The most progress we've been able to make with them is for them to identify a spoon from a fork… and that breakthrough was only made two months ago. Here we are:"

The healer pulled aside a curtain, and on the other side were two beds, sitting on the first were two people who Tempest recognized immediately.

Looking at his parents, Tempest could see that Neville looked like an exact blend of the two of them. He had his mother's hair, nose and mouth, while everything else was clearly his fathers. The only differences were while Neville's face always seemed to be full to the brim of whatever emotion he was experiencing, both of his parents faces were vacant and unaware, both staring blankly in front of them.

"Good afternoon, Frank and Alice!" the healer said cheerfully, walking over to the wide curtained windows and drawing back the drapes. "You have a new visitor today, her name is-"

Tempest blinked, then realized the healer was looking at her pointedly.

"Oh, sorry, it's Te- Thelma. Uh, Thelma Snuffles."

Tempest winced inwardly at the healer's odd look. But then again she had met people with stranger names.

"Yes, Thelma. I would think that she's the same year as your son, Neville- fifth year, dear?"

"Sixth," Tempest lied, hoping she sounded convincing enough. She didn't want anyone finding out that she'd been to visit Neville's parents, especially Neville. "At Beauxbatons."

"And what brings you to visit Frank and Alice today, may I ask?" the healer asked, her voice slightly suspicious now as she eyed Tempest.

Tempest tried to think of a lie desperately. She should have thought of a cover story _before_ she came… but she hadn't exactly been expecting an interrogation!

"I'm an apprentice," Tempest said, inventing wildly, "For… the, uh, position of Professor… Monty, our defence against the dark arts professor… he asked me to come to St Mungo's and get… reports of the symptoms of dark curses, immediate aftereffects and long term… so on and so forth."

Tempest let out a low sigh of relief when the healer seemed to buy it. "Of course, of course, shall I bring along a file for you?" she asked.

"Um, that'd be helpful, thank you," Tempest said, trying to sound older than she was. As far as she knew, only wizards and witches who were of age were allowed to become apprentices.

"I'll leave you with them now," the healer said, "and I'll go through the records and put something together for you."

Tempest said thank you again, then watched in relief as the healer disappeared out of the ward's double doors. That killed two birds with one stone really, Tempest thought. She would get an official and accurate description of the Longbottom's situation, plus she had gotten rid of the healer.

Tempest sat down in a visitor's chair by the bed, unsure what to do then. Should she talk? The Longbottoms didn't even seem aware of her presence.

"Um, hi," Tempest began, now wishing that she hadn't come at all. Yes it might help her with the making of the potion, but for some reason she felt insanely guilty about being there, and seeing Neville's parents in such a state behind his back. It was like she was intruding on some private and personal part of his life without his permission, and if it had been in reverse and anyone had done the same to her, Tempest knew she would have been furious.

"I lied, by the way," Tempest said, trying to force a smile, but failing. "I do go to Hogwarts- I know your son, Neville. We're in the same year… You'd be proud of him, I think, he's great at Herbology- saved my life third year, a flesh eating flower almost took my head off, and he somehow knew what spell to use to kill it…" Tempest shifted, feeling rather self-conscious, talking to two people who were merely sitting there, unresponsive. "My name's Tempest, and I don't know whether it's possible, but I'm trying to find a way to cure you both. It was a sort of split-second idea on my part, and truthfully I don't really know what I'm doing… that's why I thought I'd visit you… you know, get more information to research for a potion that I could maybe make, to cure you…"

Tempest knew she sounded rather foolish, discussing an idea to do something that would make three people's lives _so much_ better with barely any information on the topic, and having no idea of what she was doing.

"Thelma?"

Tempest didn't react for a moment, before she remembered that was her name, and jerked around. "Yes?"

"Here are the files," the healer said, thrusting a stack of paper into Tempest's arms, "All fourteen years' worth of reports… I included some extra files from all our other patients that had been put under one of the Unforgivables…"

"Thank you," Tempest said, struggling with the loose pieces of paper that floated down to the ground. "I'd better be going then, I think I've got all I needed, you've been a great help, thank you."

"No need to thank me, dear," the healer said, smiling kindly. "I wish you the best of luck with your apprenticeship."

"What appren- oh," Tempest stopped, realizing her mistake too late. "Sure, um, it's appreciated."

The healer gave Tempest a knowing look, which made Tempest wonder just how much of her story the healer had bought. The healer's eyes slid sideways to Tempest's jaw, and Tempest stood suddenly, plastering her hair back against her face to hide her scar.

"I'll be going now then," Tempest said, carefully avoiding the healer's eyes. "Again, thank you for all your help."

She skirted around the healer and made her way quickly up the ward, past a man who was lying in bed, mumbling to himself and staring blankly at the celling, past a woman who had sprouted fur all over her face… out through the doors of the Janus Thickly Ward, and into the corridor… only to hear a familiar voice floating up the stairs- the voice belonging to the absolute last person Tempest wanted to find her there.

"Gran, you know I can't eat strawberries," Neville was saying, his voice drifting closer, "remember last year? Took weeks for the hives to fade…"

Tempest quickly backed back into the ward she had just exited, looking around for a place to hide. The healer had her back to Tempest, straightening out the sheets of a too-handsome man with a mop of golden hair and baby blue eyes- _Gilderoy Lockhart?_

Neville slid out of Tempest's mind as she stared at her ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher from second year. He had tried to Obliverate her and Ron, only the spell had backfired, and he had ended up with all her memories straight from childhood erased. She had seen his name on the list by the door, but somehow she hadn't really put the name to the ridiculously good-looking face.

Neville's voice was right outside the doors now, and Tempest was jerked back to reality. She still had nowhere to hide! Without thinking, Tempest ran swiftly down the ward and ducked behind the curtain that separated Frank and Alice Longbottom from the rest of the room. She should _not_ be there, especially seeing as Neville was visiting his parents, and that was something that Tempest knew she had no right to witness.

Tempest could hear the healer greeting Neville and another person who Tempest assumed must be Neville's grandmother and Frank's mother.

Should she duck under a bed? Transform into Temper and hope that none of them thought a timber wolf in a hospital ward in the middle of a the city was odd? Or put on the Invisibility cloak.

Tempest cursed inwardly at not having thought of it before. She could have been out of the building and back at Grimmauld Place by then.

She had only just pulled the hood over her head when the curtain was swept aside, and Tempest came face to face with Neville.

Tempest backed away slowly, as the healer and the two sane Longbottoms walked closer.

"Oh, there was someone else visiting Frank and Alice today, did you know?" the healer said, just as she was about to leave, and Tempest cringed.

"What?"

Augusta Longbottom looked like she didn't mind either way, but Neville went pale.

"Who was it?" he asked.

_This is the day that you will die, Tempest, _Tempest thought morbidly, _Not by bloody Riddle- but from Neville Longbottom of all people…_

"Thelma Snuffles, I think her name was," the healer said, and Tempest could have hugged her right then and there.

Tempest could almost see the gears turning in Neville's mind, scanning through the people at Hogwarts called 'Thelma'.

"And what exactly did she want?" Neville asked, his voice guarded.

"She was an apprentice for a professor I think she said," the healer continued, blissfully oblivious, "Seventeen probably- in sixth year, at Beauxbatons… researching cursed victims in Britain. Nice girl… interesting hair colour…"

Tempest grabbed a few loose strands of her hair and blinked at them. They were still blonde…

"In any case, I'll be going now, give you a bit of privacy…"

_Wrong, _ Tempest thought, _I'm still here…_ But there was no way for her to exit the room without brushing by Neville or his grandmother.

"I'll be going too, Neville," Mrs Longbottom the elder said, turning to Neville. "A friend of mine… bitten by a werewolf down on first floor… meet me downstairs when you've…"

"I'll be fine, gran," Neville said, staring at the ground.

"Yes, well," Mrs Longbottom looked rather awkward, as though she wasn't sure what to say to her grandson. She patted him on the shoulder, then nodded to her son and daughter-in-law and swept back out of the room.

Neville merely stood there for a moment, and then he sat down the chair that Tempest had only just vacated. "Hey mom, dad" he said, and Tempest tried not to listen- she had no right to be there, to hear anything... "I hear some girl called Thelma came to see you…" Neville was still staring at the ground, "I was worried she went to Hogwarts- that she'd tell people…" he sighed. "I know it's wrong of me to not want anyone to know about… well, you know…"

Tempest winced, the floor suddenly looking very interesting.

"Gran keeps on saying that I should be proud of who you are- and I am!" Neville paused, "It's just… I don't want people knowing. I know Tempest… Potter, you know… the stuff she goes through just because people know both her parents… aren't around. I suppose you wish I was more like her… she's smart, people like her… and she's done stuff that even Dumbledore hasn't… I suppose if she was your daughter you'd be prouder of her…"

"Oh Neville!" Tempest said. It was just _wrong_ for Neville to think like that… wrong for him to think that perhaps his parents would prefer to have her as a daughter rather than Neville as a son just because…

"Mom?" Neville said, sounding shocked, "Did you say my name?"

Tempest realized what must have happened, and felt so much worse… she had to go.

"Mom? Mom? Did you? I swear you did… Mom, dad, it's Neville!"

Tempest was horrified to see that Neville's eyes were dangerously bright as he slid out of his seat to kneel beside his parents. She edged by him. She should _not _be there, _not_ have seen or heard what she already had… Tempest made it out of the ward and into the corridor outside, yanking her cloak off and stuffing it back into her bag with a sigh of relief. The material had seemed oddly stifling.

Tempest was down four flights of stairs and on the first floor when she tripped over someone's foot and as they steadied her, she came face to face with someone else who she didn't really want to see at the moment.

The overly cheerful healer released Tempest, brushing off Tempest's jacket for her in a motion that made Tempest even more uncomfortable.

"Hello again, Thelma!" she said, "Leaving now?"

"Um yeah," Tempest said, "I had to stop in another ward to talk to… a friend."

The healer nodded and stepped aside to let Tempest past, only to call her back at the last moment.

"And by the way, Thelma, just so you know…"

"Yes?"

"Not all of us believe what the Prophet writes, dear… remember that."

_Prophet?_

~Y._.Y~

"Well, I'm insulted!" Sirius said, throwing down the copy of the Daily Prophet on top of the pile of dozens of other papers all spread out on the kitchen table.

"I got my first newspaper article in the Prophet declaring me insane when I was sixteen! And you beat me by _one_ bloody year!"

Tempest grinned at Sirius over the stack of papers, "Jealous are we?"

"Of course not!" Sirius scoffed. "S'not all that special, Temper… being diagnosed unstable- only Prongs and I spent our entire career wanting to make it into the Prophet to be called mad… I had to get disowned to get in _one_ edition… and here you are, only fifteen and you get called out for being insane in over _twenty six_ papers!"

"Jealous it is, then," Tempest grinned, only to be cuffed around the head by Sirius. "You figured out how to get your television all connected and plugged in?"

"Sort of," Sirius said, rolling his eyes, "Who knew Muggles could make stuff so complicated?"

"Just tap the thing with your wand and connect it like that," Tempest sighed, "You know you're terrible with wires and stuff."

"Temper, you know what happened when I tried that on the bike!"

"Oh, that _was_ funny," Tempest laughed, "Wish I had a picture…"

"And I wish I had a drink," Sirius complained, "Where'd all the firewhiskey go?"

"Uh," Tempest shrugged, avoiding Sirius's eyes, not wanting to tell him that before he had arrived back home she had drunk half of the six bottles in the cupboard and ended up emptying the rest down the sink. She'd had to brew herself a sober up potion (extra strength)just to make all the flashing lights go away. "I used them up… an experiment."

Apparently though, even with all the extra practice Tempest had been having for lying, her skill still had not improved.

"Oh, Tempest, don't embarrass yourself!" Sirius said, laughing slightly, "You know perfectly well you can't lie! If you drank all of the firewhiskey that's perfectly fine- so long as you don't end up doing something stupid or getting yourself killed…"

"Sirius! We're Marauders remember? And I'm Temper… embarrassing myself, doing stupid things and getting myself killed is my area!"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot that part," Sirius said, "Oops."

"Oops, indeed," Tempest said, rolling her eyes. "In any case, I'll take a look at the television later- d'you want it set up this floor, or the second?"

"This floor, definitely, it'd end up getting destroyed if you set it up on the second floor- remember last week?"

"Don't remind me," Tempest moaned, "It took me forever got fix the frame of the house so that it wouldn't collapse on us, and then days for the smell to go away… remind me Sirius, why you thought you needed to set off your entire childhood stash of around fifty dungbombs at once?"

"Thought it'd be fun," Sirius shrugged.

"Oh yeah?" Tempest said.

"Yeah," Sirius replied, "Just like you thought it'd be fun to duel me in the middle of the living room?"

"Hey!" Tempest complained, "I won that duel!"

"Well yeah, but I sent you flying through three walls first."

"And then I dangled you out of the window upside down stark naked," Tempest grinned, "You should've been grateful the Fidelus charm prevented anyone else from seeing that…"

"The point _being,_" Sirius interrupted, "Is that anything on the second floor ends up being destroyed, therefore anything we plan on keeping long term- and I suggest you don't get attached to much here- stays off the second floor."

"Sure," Tempest said, rolling her eyes. "In any case, what's for dinner?"

"I told Kreacher to make chicken," Sirius said, "Should be done in an hour or so."

"And did you think to _thank_ him?"

Sirius looked disgusted. "Now, why would I want to do that?" he asked, aghast. "You're too bloody nice to him sometimes, Tempest."

Years of abuse at the Dursleys came rushing back as Tempest replied, "Maybe sometimes it's alright to show a little kindness to those beneath you."

Sirius's silvery grey eyes met Tempest's and he looked away as he realized what Tempest was saying.

"Tempest, you _do_ know what Kreacher represents?"

Tempest merely shook her head. "Sirius, do _you_ know what _I _represented to the Durselys?"

Sirius's eyes hardened and his jaw worked for a few moments before he managed to speak. "It really means that much to you?"

"Yes," Tempest replied, surprised that it did. Or perhaps it was just after everything that had happened that day and the feeling of gloom that had settled around her that she had been warding off by sheer willpower . "Yes, it does."

"Alright."

Tempest's head snapped up to look at Sirius. "Alright?" she said incredulously, "Alright? So you're just going to be nice to him all of a sudden just because I asked you to?"

Sirius grimaced, "Yeah. I can't promise anything-"

"-I'm not asking you to."

"-but I will _try _be civil to that blasted elf." Sirius sighed. "And Tempest- I'm only doing this for you… that and the fact that I am _never,_ under _any_ circumstances going to kiss Snape."

"I once said that I'd never kiss Draco Malfoy," Tempest said, waggling her eyebrows in Sirius's direction. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

Sirius's mouth dropped open. "I- what- you- Snivellus- he- I- Do you want me to jam your head in the freezer and pour syrup all over you again?"

"I'm game if you are," Tempest said, spreading her arms wide in a sweeping gesture. "Just bear in mind we might have to go through five or six showers a day."

"I'm always game," Sirius replied, and then Padfoot attacked.

~Y._.Y~

Draco's tea was cold.

_Yes_ he knew it was a stupid thing to fixate on, but it seemed to be happening much more often those days.

The thing was… in fact, there was no 'thing' there were just too many 'things' just then that Draco wanted to blast out of the way, except they were all intangible. Or at least apart from the cup of cold tea. The rest was intangible. The cold tea could be dealt with at least.

Draco was bored.

There was really no other way to put it. Practicing Quiddtich outside was boring, Wizards chess with his mother was boring, the horses that they kept in the stables for riding had ceased to interest Draco and all the other activities that Draco had used to love doing at Malfoy Manor seemed flat and dull.

The reason?

Tempest Potter.

Flying without her wasn't fun, chess games against her when Draco always lost weren't fun, horses… well, Draco had never really ridden a horse with Tempest, but still. It was sort of like the bloody screen that he kept on thinking of that had been destroyed, only to come back, bloody bars and curtains included.

It was pathetic, Draco constantly told himself, it had been a whole half year since they had- to put it lightly- broken up, and by the end of the last school year it had been clear that Tempest had moved on, so why in the name of Merlin's bloody knickers, couldn't he?

It was _just_ a girl, j_ust_ a bloody girl who he had only gone out with a few times and not even shagged, so he shouldn't really even be thinking twice about her.

"Not still moping about for Potter, are you Draco?"

Draco's eyes flashed up from the cup of tea to his father's face.

"No, I'm trying to transfigure this teacup into a mouse using only the power of my mind," Draco said, flinching as he realized that that was exactly what Tempest would have said. "Of course I'm thinking of bloody Tempest. How can I not when the person who merely stood there and watched while she was put under the Cruciatus three times is standing right in front of me?"

"I will not apologize for my loyalty to the Dark Lord," Lucius Malfoy's voice had dropped several degrees, becoming colder as he regarded his son. "And were you wiser, you would swear the same allegiance."

"That's likely going to happen," Draco snorted, returning his gaze to his teacup.

"There is a war coming," Lucius's said, "You would do well to be on the winning."

"You mean the side that has a sixty-five year old man? Yeah- right."

Draco cursed as his teacup exploded, soaking his feet and showering him with bits of china.

Lucius's face was inches from his own as Malfoy Sr hissed, "Were you anyone else but my own flesh and blood, you would have been writhing on the ground under the Cruciatus right now."

"Oh?" Draco said, his heartbeat sounding loud in his ears at the moment, "Is that what Tempest said before she was Crucioed?" He saw something flicker in his father's eyes, and Draco drew in a breath, "It was, wasn't it? She never did know when to shut up…"

"Listen!" Lucius said lowly, "I cannot pretend to fathom your infatuation with Potter, but it _must_ stop. Should the Dark Lord lean of such a thing, not only your life, but that of your mother's and mine would be forfeit. I thought I made that perfectly clear last I spoke to you of it, but obviously I did not. My loyalty may be first and foremost to my family- but immediately after it is to the Dark Lord and I can no longer make allowances for you, Draco."

"I'm not asking you to-"

"No, but you're putting your mother's life, your own, and mine on the line! I am currently in excellent standing both with the Ministry of Magic and the Dark Lord and I will _not_ have your ridiculous feelings for the girl jeopardizing it! If this continues- I _will _take matters into my own hands."

Draco stared at his father for a moment until the words registered. "You would disown me?" he asked, feeling strangely numb. "The heir to the Malfoy line and your only son?"

Lucius's expression was cold and remote as he replied. "You're merely a boy, Draco- sixteen and you think you know the ways of the world. There is a war coming. You would do well to remember that."


End file.
